A Phoenix Does Not Fear Ashes
by HeyyTyler
Summary: GWDM Draco joins the order, Ginny is raped. When he becomes her savior, who would have guessed that the two would become more? Or that together they would form the most badass team the Order has ever seen? A story of love, revenge, protection & sacrifice.
1. Goodbye

Hello, all. This first chapter is a bit slow, if you ask me. But don't worry, it will heat up FAST. Wow, if you've clicked on this to read it, I would just like to mention how much I love you! Oh and this takes place after Harry etc. 6th year and Dumbledore is NOT dead.

Disclaimer: J.K. Rowling owns all. I wished I owned Draco Malfoy for my own devices, but you win some, you lose some.

Anyway, here is A Phoenix Does Not Fear The Ashes, Chapter One: Goodbye.

P.S. if you like to listen to music while reading, which I do, I suggest listening to Goodbye by Sr-71.

Understand I'm born to lead you will follow

I don't wanna stay

I'm running away

Don't you hear me when I say?

Goodbye

So long

Nice try

I'm gone

You don't like being second

I don't like being wrong

I won't forget the way you made me feel

I won't regret running away from here

So I'll say goodbye again

-Sr-71, Goodbye

Draco paced back and forth in the empty and cold foyer, wearing his muggle clothes; he reached one side of the room and turned, starting towards the other side. He needed a plan. He couldn't stay any longer. He wouldn't survive. He had to runaway. He couldn't become a Death Eater. And he knew his father would make him. It was the Malfoy way, their tradition. Their legacy. Draco snorted; "the legacy of my family is to rape and murder innocent people. It's disgusting." Draco wanted no part of it. Sure, he used to idolize his father, used to do what he asked, not even out of fear, out of respect. But now, Draco couldn't stand to look at him. Draco turned again, making his way back towards the other wall. When he was younger, Draco had _wanted_ to become a Death Eater, but he'd been foolish, he hadn't known how despicable those people were, how despicable his family was. Draco had seen the light some years ago, before he had been asked to kill his Headmaster. He had realized that he could never be like his father, no matter that he was raised to be Lucius' clone. He didn't have the stomach to rape someone; to force them into something like that was disgusting. Draco had never _had_ to do something like that; women were constantly throwing themselves at him, on several occasions literally. But to rape someone was so barbaric; Draco couldn't understand why his father would like to do that. Wait, yes he could. His father was the spawn of the devil, especially on his bad days. Especially when Draco embarrassed him. Especially in front of the Dark Lord. Draco stopped pacing. What was he doing? He had to get out. Fast. His father was going to force him to become a Death Eater within the next few days. To become the thing he hated most. To become like Lucius.

Draco had already packed; he'd been packed since coming to the Manor for summer vacation. He'd never unpacked, really. All he needed was an escape plan. The Death Eaters were monitoring the floo network, so that was out of the question. And he couldn't apparate without tipping them off to where he was going either. He'd have to fly. Draco, relieved he'd finally thought of a plan, started slinking towards the kitchen. His father was never in there; he didn't like to associate himself with the help, unless it was to harass them, of course. Draco shook his head in disgust. He quietly walked towards the servants' entrance at the back of the kitchen. The door led off to the large backyard, which was where Draco could get access to his broom and finally run. Finally. Freedom was just a few hundred feet away. As Draco put his hand on the doorknob, a voice behind him spoke.

"Going somewhere Draco?" He froze. Shit. Lucius.

"Yes, actually, Father, I am." Draco drawled, while turning.

Lucius had his wand drawn and aimed at Draco's face. "I won't allow it. I won't allow you to embarrass me further, Draco." Lucius' face was wearing the patented Malfoy family mask. The one they were trained from birth to perfect, to hide their emotions and thoughts under.

Draco quickly checked to make sure his emotions weren't showing either. Draco's hand slowly inched towards his wand. Fast, like Lucius had taught him, he drew his wand, trained it on Lucius and slipped into his offensive stance.

As soon as Lucius registered that Draco had aimed his wand, he Crucio'd his only son and watched him writhe on the ground in agony.

Draco saw the streak of red and mentally prepared himself. He didn't scream, he'd felt worse from his father, most memorably after he had failed to kill Dumbledore. It was like every nerve had been dipped in alcohol and set on fire. But it wasn't the worse. No, his father wouldn't waste his worse this soon in the fight.

Lucius waved the spell off after 30 seconds, with a bored expression on his face.

Draco quickly returned to his stance, he was determined to escape tonight. He couldn't stay. Draco returned fire with an Expelliarmus. It missed, he knew it would. He was trying to keep Lucius preoccupied.

Lucius jumped out of the way of the Expelliarmus, laughing at his pathetic son.

While his father laughed, Draco quickly shot a second spell, this one a full body bind, knowing full well his father would jump out of the way again. But Draco wasn't aiming for his father. He was aiming for what was behind Lucius. For what had been revealed when Lucius jumped out of the way the first time. A mirror.

As Draco threw another charm at him, Lucius laughed again. When would the boy learn? When would he stop throwing his pathetic enchantments and charms and use something worth Lucius' time? Lucius jumped to the right of the charm and then took a step back into his original position. Suddenly, Lucius couldn't move. He was falling onto his face. The boy had hit him. But how?

"You forget, Father. You taught me everything you know. I'm even cleverer than you. You should be more aware of your surrounding next time. Spells bounce off of reflective material. I should thank Narcissa for her egotistical personality. If it wasn't for her, that mirror wouldn't have been there."

Narcissa. Goddamned woman. She insisted on having mirrors in every room, so that she could stare at her reflection, no matter where she was in the house. Lucius would beat her for this one. He knew Draco wouldn't kill him. The boy didn't have the guts.

"Goodbye Father." Draco calmly left the room, though inside he was shaking. As soon as he was outside, he took off running. He wasn't sure how long that body bind would last, especially with his nerves so frayed. Draco hadn't slept for more than 3 hours a night in 5 weeks, since he had returned to the Manor for summer. Since he had returned to Lucius' presence. Since Lucius had continued beating him. Every night.

Draco picked up his pace. He could see the broom shed now, though it wasn't much of a shed really. It could house a family of 4 comfortably. Draco wrenched open the door and bolted inside. There were around twenty brooms inside. But Draco knew which he wanted. His Nimbus 2001. The fastest broom in the world.

Draco crossed the broom shed to the far wall, grabbed the Nimbus and sprinted back outside. Draco looked over his shoulder. He saw his father marching angrily towards him across the lawn. Lucius had shaken off the charm, then. Draco smirked; he'd make it out of here. Lucius wasn't as fast on a broom as Draco and Draco could dodge his spells in the air. He wasn't the Slytherin seeker for nothing. Draco started running, leaped into the air and in one move placed the broom under his body. Draco swiftly gained altitude, putting space between him and his father.

Down below, Lucius was yelling in rage and blindly shooting off curses. "Damned boy, he's going to embarrass me again, eh? Let's see if he can handle a Cruciatus in mid-air", Lucius thought as he shot the curse towards his son.

Draco saw the Cruciatus come and swerved his broom towards the right. He was almost towards the large forest that surrounded the estate, where Lucius wouldn't be able to hit him with curses. Draco turned around and yelled to his father "Goodbye Father, give my regards to Mother, would you?"

And with that, Draco turned, facing the future, not once looking back at his past, laughing the entire time at the look on his fathers face at his last words. He didn't know where he was going, but he knew it had to be better than from where he had just escaped.

If you would like to review, I would greatly appreciate it. Let me know if anything needs fixing. Chapter 2 should be up VERY soon. As I said earlier, I've already written like 5 chapters.

-Katy


	2. Join Your Enemies

Hello. This chapter is a bit short, but it pretty much sets up the rest of the story. The chapter is called "Join Your Enemies" and I couldn't really find a good song for it, so I used this one (apologies to anyone who likes it, I've never thought it has a great tune, but that's just my opinion.) Now, it is time for the disclaimer!

Disclaimer: J.K. Rowling owns the minds, bodies and souls of every character featured in this chapter (except for Cato the bookkeeper, he is of my own design) along with any spells, places, and/or certain Knight buses. Fall Out Boy owns "Know Your Enemy". Lyrics from

That's enough. Thanks for reading, I hope you enjoy it!!

Do you know the enemy?

Do you know your enemy?

Well, gotta know the enemy

Overthrow the effigy

The vast majority

Burning down the foreman of control

Silence is the enemy

Against your urgency

So rally up the demons of your soul

Know The Enemy, Green Day

Draco had been working in Diagon Alley for more than two weeks. He was trying to get by without magic. This was especially difficult considering he'd never done either task in his life, and now he was accomplishing both at the same time. But he had to. If he didn't, his father would find him. Draco knew his father wouldn't kill him. No, Lucius would want to find his unruly son and punish him. For hours. And then make him a Death Eater, after he had learned his lesson. Draco would rather die than return to that world. And Lucius knew this.

Draco had been working at Flourish and Blotts. The job was fitting, actually. Draco loved to read, he had even read a few muggle books, though his father had no clue. Draco had changed the covers with a simple charm, so his father thought he was buying excessive amounts of wizarding books. Lucius would have broken Draco's wand arm if he ever learned that Draco had read some of the classic muggle books. But, though Flourish and Blotts had no muggle books, it was stocked with plenty of wizarding books and Draco read them constantly when he wasn't showing swooning, preteen girls where Lockharts' books were kept or insisting that, yes, that book is indeed 2 Galleons and 11 Knuts and no, unfortunately he couldn't accept an I Owe You.

Draco was in his room; the owners of Flourish and Blotts had been kind enough to lend him a room for his assistance around the shop. They had even given him a salary. Draco was going through his trunk, searching for some spare Galleons, he had not been able to reach Gringotts before his father had Draco's name removed from the account, when he heard a tapping at the window. Startled, he bumped his head on the lid of the trunk, before turning towards the only window in the room. There, he saw a tawny owl, impatient to be let in. For a moment, Draco's heart leapt into his mouth, but then he shook himself. He knew full well that if it were his father, Lucius would have stormed the shop with 50 Death Eaters accompanying him, not an owl. Draco was actually a bit surprised that his father hadn't found him yet.

Draco opened the window hesitantly, wondering who cared enough to owl him. Who knew him well enough to find him? All of his friends from school had been fakes and posers. Most of them wanted to be friends with him because of his money. Or his social status. Or his father. Or simply because their parents were friends with Narcissa and Lucius. Or, as in the case of many girls, it was because they wanted to sleep with him.

Draco's questions were answered when he saw the seal on the letter: a badger, a lion, a snake and a raven surrounded the large 'H'. Hogwarts. Of course, Dumbledore would be able to find him, no matter how well he hid. Draco slowly opened the letter, more questions buzzing in his head. What do they want? Have I been expelled?

No. He wasn't expelled. Hogwarts had been closed, due to the ongoing wizarding war. Traveling, Dumbledore explained, would be too hazardous with so many Death Eaters walking about. At the end of the letter, Dumbledore personally addressed Draco, saying, he knew about his situation and to visit Snape.

Way to be cryptic, old man, Draco thought sarcastically.

Draco sat down on the bed, hands folded, elbows on knees, staring at the floor. He had nowhere to go. He was planning on staying in Flourish and Blotts until the start of term, until he was able to go Hogwarts, where it was safe. Safety. Draco hadn't felt safe in a very long time. He supposed the only thing to do was to follow Dumbledore's suggestion and visit Snape. Though, he wasn't entirely sure this was what the ancient man had meant.

Draco looked at the clock; it was 7:37 in the morning, on a Saturday. His day off. He decided that he would leave in an hour for Spinners End. Draco got up and started to get dressed in his muggle clothes. He found some muggle clothes: a pair of jeans and a grey Henley shirt, the grey was almost the exact color of Draco's eyes, and he knew he looked good in it. His father would probably Crucio him if he saw what he was wearing. Pansy would probably try to lure him into bed. He hoped he didn't run into either of them today. Or ever again. Draco quickly brushed his teeth, not bothering to comb his hair, it fell over his mercury eyes in a messy way. It looked good this way, or so he had been told by a variety of girls on several occasions.

Draco shivered. Those girls were disgusting. Always trying to get him to have sex with him. When he was younger, he had liked the attention, even accepting their invitations on numerous occasions. But now, he saw them for what they really were. Sluts. Easy. They reminded him of the Death Eater world.

Draco quietly slunk down the small stairwell like a shadow, nodding to Cato, the owner of the bookstore, before moving along the shelves to find a book he had been reading. After around forty-five minutes of reading about defensive spells, he closed the book and walked towards the front door. He couldn't use the floo network, for fear of his father monitoring it. He couldn't fly either, it was midday and flying in midday would arouse suspicion. Draco cautiously exited the store, keeping an eye out for any Death Eaters. As he passed Olivanders', the wand maker, he thought he saw Rookwood, but it turned out to just be a very unfortunate looking wizard.

Draco kept walking, all the time keeping his eyes open for Death Eaters or anyone he knew, but always making sure he didn't look too suspicious. It was how his father taught him, look over your shoulder by using the window of a shop. You can appear to be merely browsing for items, when in reality you are looking for people following you. Scan the crowd, but not like you're looking for someone. He could almost hear his father teaching him how to observe without arousing suspicion. "Make your eyes look more past the people around you, never look like you're looking at them, but always be aware of your surroundings, Draco. " Lucius never would have thought Draco would use this knowledge to evade him. Draco chuckled darkly to himself at the thought of his father unknowingly teaching his son how to runaway from the Dark Lord.

Draco finally made it to the Leaky Cauldron, the entrance to Diagon Alley. He would then contact the Knight Bus and go to Manchester, walking from there to Spinners End, all while evading the Death Eaters, his father, and The Dark Lord. If he was extremely lucky.

While in the Leaky Cauldron, Draco borrowed a hat and a pair of sunglasses from Tom, the bartender, so that no off-duty Death Eaters could recognize him on the Bus.

Draco exited the Leaky Cauldron and stood in front of it, holding out his wand hand. Many passing muggles gave him curious looks, but Draco ignored them until he saw what he had been waiting for: a giant, violet, three-decker bus came screeching to a halt right in front of him.

Draco boarded, smoothly answering that his name was Ernie MacMillan, who was actually a harmless Hufflepuff whom Draco used to bully and mock at school. Draco ignored the rest of Stan Shunpike's nosy questions and quickly headed towards the back of the bus, where there were fewer passengers. Fewer people to recognize him.

Draco quickly arrived at Manchester without incident. He had seen no Death Eaters, though he did see a few people with questionable choices of sweaters. Why were they even _wearing_ sweaters? Draco asked himself. It's the middle of July! The older generation just didn't seem as gifted at wearing suitable muggle clothes and blending in as well as the current generation.

As Draco got off the bus, he saw a few people giving him wary glances, so he walked nonchalantly down a few alleys and side streets, even going as far as to walk off in the opposite direction than where he was supposed to be going, before setting off to Spinners End. He didn't want anyone to know where he was going. Snape would be pissed if his cover was blown. Especially if Draco was the one to blow it. Snape knew how clever and stealthy Draco was, how he methodically planned his every action.

After a few detours, Draco walked down a one-way street towards Spinners End. The one-way street offered less traffic, and so fewer eyes to see him. Draco walked for a little over 50 minutes until he reached Spinners End. Draco nonchalantly walked to the end of the block, then, making sure no one was looking, jumped the fence into the backyard of the house on the end. The backyard wasn't really a yard, per se. It was really more of a small lot with overgrown weeds and some herbs that could be used in potions. Draco calmly walked to the backdoor and tapped it five times; the code that would let Snape know it was his godson calling. The door opened and Draco saw the hooked nose, black hair and dark eyes of his favorite professor and godfather through the crack in the door.

"I was wondering when you would turn up, Draco," drawled Snape.

Draco cracked a smile and replied, "These are desperate times, I tell you."

"Are you here to ask for scraps of food and beg for Galleons? My how the mighty Malfoy have fallen," Snape said snidely.

"You're a last resort, Snape, I visited everyone short of my father and Harry Potter before coming to the likes of you." Draco drawled, leaning against the doorframe.

Snape laughed outwardly and opened the door to allow his godson inside. Draco sauntered through, looking around Snape's basement. It was a dark, dank room, lit only by a few candles and the red-orange light the potion in the middle of the table gave off. The walls were covered with bookshelves, which held both books and vials of strange liquids. Draco's eyes returned to the table in the center of the room.

"What are you brewing?" he asked.

"A Veritaserum, some for the Dark Lord, some for the Order. Cut the idle chatter Draco, I know you ran away from home. What do you need?" Snape asked the last question with serious concern in his eyes.

"I need to know what to do next. I've been working at Flourish and Blotts for a while, waiting for term to roll around, but it looks like term _isn't_ going to roll around. I don't know where to go. Hogwarts was the only place where I was safe from him, where he wouldn't be able to find me." Draco wasn't sure whether the "he" was his father or the Dark Lord. Sometimes they felt like the same person.

Snape smiled sadly, "I know this will hurt your pride, Draco, but you have to join the Order of the Phoenix."

Draco tensed and became motionless with shock. Snape had just asked him to join his enemies.

Hello again. I hope you had fun reading it. I had a great time writing it. Chapter 3 will be up next. (No, really?)

A special thanks to **Eveil Woman **for being my first reviewer, it made my day. I actually started bouncing up and down in excitement when I read your review. My apologies for making Lucius the bad guy. You win some, you lose some, I guess.

Reviews are appreciated! Let me know what I'm doing wrong, right, etc. I would also like to know whether or not I need to speed up the story line?

-Katy


	3. Something To Live For

Hey. To those of you reading this, I would like to say thank you for picking up my story. I think its pretty good if I do say so myself. I hope you like this chapter! Also, tomorrow is Thanksgiving, so I won't be able to post, most likely. I know, it's not like it's a "real" holiday, and I completely agree with that (my family uses the holiday as an opportunity to stuff our faces even more than usual!) but, we're having family over, so if I wander off to be alone, everyone will think im being "rude". Or so my parents tell me.

Anyway, Disclaimer: J.K.R. owns ALL.

Pennywise owns the song. And I got the lyrics off Youtube.

Enjoy,

-Katy.

Told to follow-

Hard to swallow

Don't you know that they're wasting your time

But they need you

and beseech you

To support their bastion of crime

The darkness is falling

Can we wake up in time?

We can't lose the battle

Lose it today keep the good times away

Give me something to live for

we're finding a way

out of the shadows

You've got to show me that we can live for today

Never listen,

don't ask questions

Don't expect them

To tell you the truth

They'll deceive you and besiege you

With the lies they disguise just for you

The darkness is falling

Can we wake up in time?

We can't lose the battle

Lose it today keep the good times away

Give me something to live for

we're finding a way

out of the shadows

You've got to show me that we can live for today

-Something to Live For, Pennywise.

"Been inhaling too many potions fumes again, Snape? It kills brain cells, you know." Draco commented sarcastically.

"No, Draco. I'm serious. You need to contact the Order "

"Apparently, you've already killed off most of your brain cells if you think I'm going to go ask the stupid Order for help. " Draco interrupted Snape.

"You don't need to ask them for help, Draco. You need to get them to ask you for help. It's the only way they'll accept you. You could tell them all about the Death Eaters. You're clever and can come up with excellent plans in no time at all. You're exactly what they need." Snape replied calmly. He was used to his godsons sarcasm.

"And what makes you think they'll even trust me, Snape? What makes you think that they won't curse me to the ground the moment I step onto their doorstep?"

"Well, first you'd have to ring the doorbell to get their attention, so obviously they're not going to curse you the _moment _you step onto their doorstep." Snape responded drily.

"Oh, funny Snape. Let's joke about my imminent death at the hands of my biggest enemies, shall we?" Draco shot back.

"I'm sorry Draco, but you have to do it. They're the only ones who will be able to protect you form your father now."

Draco's mercury eyes widened in surprised and then quickly hardened in resolve. "Fine. I'll go to the bloody Order. Being shot dead by them is better than returning to my father anyway."

Snape smirked in triumph. "They aren't going to curse you Draco. The Order doesn't use Unforgivables, first off and you'll have Dumbledore with you."

Dumbledore. As much as Lucius had tried to instill contempt in Draco at Dumbledore, Draco could never help but feel a bit safer whenever the old man was around. "Fine. I'll do it."

Snape turned around without another word, walking upstairs to the rest of his house, leaving Draco alone in the creepy potions room.

Draco knew he couldn't follow Snape upstairs, someone might see him through one of the windows. Draco looked around at his surroundings; it was dark and cold, like the ex-Potions master himself. No, Draco knew that wasn't true. He knew that somewhere, deep down in the depths of his black heart, Snape had once loved someone, and that the only people he cared for anymore were Draco and Dumbledore. Draco suddenly realized that Snape cared for one more person that Draco did. Draco only cared for Snape, his godfather. The man had been more of a father to him than Lucius had. Draco realized that if he died right now, no one but Snape would truly miss him. Lucius would yell in rage that he hadn't gotten revenge, but be happy that the boy couldn't embarrass him further. Narcissa wouldn't cry, no Draco knew his mother was far past showing any emotion other than self-admiration. Pansy would only make up some rumor about how Draco and Pansy had had sex in his final days. Only Snape would care, and Draco wasn't entirely sure whether the man was still capable of crying. No, no one would cry for Draco.

What had he accomplished in his life, really? Sure, he was a great seeker. He used to have a lot of money. He used to have the Malfoy name to back everything he did. He had played a few good pranks on unsuspecting Hufflepuffs' in his lifetime. The only thing worthwhile he had ever done was run from his father. It had been the best decision he had ever made. But, even that, in itself, wouldn't make a huge impact on anyone else's life. No one would remember him for it.

Draco had reached a resolve. He wanted to make an impact on someone's life. He would use the Order to do this, to accomplish his mission. He would help The Order of the Phoenix fight and destroy the Dark Lord, if it was the last thing he did. Which it probably would be.

"Snape was right, the mighty Malfoy _have_ fallen. A year ago, I wouldn't have even thought these thoughts. If someone had told me I, Draco Malfoy was to join the Order of the Phoenix to destroy the Dark Lord, I would have laughed in their face. And then probably Crucio'd them, if Father was around.."

A year ago, Draco had been terrified of his father. Had only wanted to please him. It hadn't been with the respect of his childhood years, but more an urge to please his father in order to distract him. To make Lucius happy had meant to avoid another beating.

But now, Draco had grown. He had overcome most of his fear of his Father. He had been able to defy, runaway from and even mock his father. But Draco still couldn't kill him. Draco knew in the end he would have to be the one to kill Lucius. Not only because he was the only one with enough skill, but also because he needed to do it for his own closure. To see his father die by his hand. To see the hand that had beat him so often, lay motionless on the floor. To see the wand that had inflicted so much pain with simple spells, drop and snap in half. It was the only way Draco would be able to get on with his life.

By the time Snape had returned, Draco had realized that he had two missions: To help the Order of the Phoenix destroy the Dark Lords regime, in order to make an impact upon someone's life, and to kill his father.

"Dumbledore will be here"

The telltale _crack_ of apparating filled their ears.

soon" Snape finished.

They both turned to see the aforementioned man standing before them. He greeted them both with a warm smile, the one that crinkled his eyes. "Severus, Draco. Draco, Severus tells me you would like to join the Order of the Phoenix?"

Draco swallowed before answering, "Yes, sir."

"And you are sure about this decision?"

"My resolve is unwavering, sir."

Dumbledore smiled again, "Well, then, let's get down to business, shall we?"

Dumbledore led the two associates of Death Eaters down a dirt lane. For an old man, he walked very fast, and Snape had to run to keep up at times. Draco had no problem keeping time with Dumbledore, but then again, he was younger than both of the teachers. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Dumbledore had told them that the headquarters of the Order was ahead, though Draco couldn't imagine why, for Merlin's sake, the Headquarters of the Order of the Phoenix would be located in muggle London. (Draco didn't know exactly where in muggle London they were, but he could tell that they were no longer in wizarding London.) Though, muggle London was substantially bigger than wizarding London. Maybe the Order members _had_ been thinking when they established their Headquarters.

Draco continued to walk down the dirt road, really wishing he had thought to eat breakfast this morning, or at least steal a candy bar. The road was lined with tall trees, the leaves bright green in the summer climate. It was sunny and surprisingly warm for London, Draco had even had to roll up his sleeves. The light shined off his white-blond hair, which hung into his mercury colored eyes.

Just as Draco was getting tired of walking, they rounded a corner and strode into a clearing. In the center of the clearing, sitting atop a slight hill, was what appeared to be a wooden house. The house was larger than any cabin, but smaller than Malfoy Manor. It was painted white, with a black roof. It looked large enough to house a few families, and Draco knew an expansion charm had probably been cast to make it even bigger inside.

As Draco, Snape, and Dumbledore walked up the slight incline towards the house, Draco noticed a few people walking around outside. One person spotted them, stared for a second, dropped the basket she was carrying and ran quickly inside. Draco wasn't sure whether to laugh at the girl's reaction to his appearance or be upset.

As they reached the top of the hill, Snape commented, "Look, Draco, there's no doorstep for them to kill you on, your fears appear to have been for nothing." Dr Draco looked, his godfather was indeed right. Instead of a doorstep, the house had a wrap around porch, painted white as well. On one side of the porch was a porch swing. Draco was slightly shocked at how the Headquarters of a group of outlaws, refugees and wanted fugitives could be so peaceful and sunny.

Dumbledore knocked on the door. A few seconds later, a frazzled looking, short red-haired woman answered the door, shooing away children as she did so.

"Molly, I need you to gather the Order members in attendance and tell them to meet in the kitchen, quickly. We have a new recruit, and we must put him through the Veritaserum test."

Molly looked over Dumbledore's shoulder to get a look at the new recruit. Upon seeing Draco, her eyes narrowed and lips thinned, but she didn't argue with Dumbledore, there would be plenty of time for that later. Instead, she gave a strained nod and quickly disappeared, leaving the door open for Dumbledore.

Dumbledore quickly stepped over the threshold and ushered Draco and Snape inside. He quickly led them to the kitchen, which was directly to the left.

Inside the kitchen was a large table, around which sat at least 20 chairs. Dumbledore sat down at the head of the table, motioning for Draco to sit to the left and Snape to sit next to Draco. Draco knew he did this so that no one could sit next to Draco and hex him, but made no comment.

Soon, the kitchen was filled with Order members, the chairs were all filled and many people were standing behind them or sitting on the counter. Draco saw many faces, some he recognized, most he'd never seen before. Draco noted that there were many of the faces and voices were angry, but he couldn't concentrate on what any particular one was saying. They were all yelling and pointing angrily at Draco, all red-faced with anger, veins were popping out of the foreheads of some men. They were all yelling at Dumbledore, saying words like "Death Eater", "trap", and "betrayal". Draco watched as they each lost control and started pointing at Dumbledore, who sat at the table, hands clasped, looking calmly on at the angry crowd.

Suddenly, there was a sharp whistle and the crowd stopped yelling at once. They turned in unison to the source, to see short Mrs. Weasley, standing on a stool, pinkies in mouth. She was the one who had whistled.

Before the crowd could start uproar again, she started yelling: "All underage wizards OUT! Harry, Ginny, Hermione, and Ronald, that means you!"

Draco looked around to see Ron Weasley, Hermione Granger, Harry Potter, and Ginny Weasley leave the room with their heads down. Harry stopped and looked up, like he was about to protest, but seeing Mrs. Weasley's face, decided better of it and followed his friends out.

Mrs. Weasley continued with "You too, Fred, George!"

"But Mum, we're of age!" one of the red headed twins protested.

"I don't care, NOW GET OUT!" she yelled.

Draco watched as the twins ran out of the room, he would have run too, if he could. But he couldn't he couldn't run any longer. It was time to face his enemies. Time to befriend them and even help them. He wasn't sure if they would let him help them, but he had to try. It was the only way to fulfill his mission.

Soon, the crowd of adult Order members began to yell again. This time, Dumbledore stopped it. The man stood up, scooting back his chair, and the crowd immediately quieted.

"I know you think that this you boy is a Death Eater. That he will trap us and betray us. But we are here because we will give him a fair chance. We will test him with some Veritaserum. If he is here to trap and betray us, then I, myself, will take care of him. But if he passes the Veritaserum test, then he will become your brother in combat, a fellow refugee and fugitive, and you will treat him as such. Are we agreed?"

Draco heard a few mumbled "Yes, sir's", but knew it was because they thought he would not pass the test and then be dead, at Dumbledore's hand, in a few hours.

After her mum had kicked them out, Ginny shared a glance with the rest of the group before they all flew to the door. They each pressed an ear up to the door and heard voices. The Order was yelling in unison again.

"Can't believe she kicked us out, Ron, we're of age! Your mum's acting mad, Ronald!" Hermione grumbled. She was shushed by the 5 other people trying to hear the conversation taking place inside the kitchen.

Ginny was just able to catch the rest of Dumbledore's speech: "If he is here to trap and betray us, then I, myself, will take care of him. But if he passes the Veritaserum test, then he will become your brother in combat, a fellow outlaw and fugitive, and you will treat him as such. Are we agreed?"

The Order agreed and Ginny saw Harry grin triumphantly. She knew he thought that Draco would never be able to pass the test. Ginny wasn't sure what to think. He was known to be a Death Eater, she had heard him brag about it on several occasions when they had been younger, but then he had refused to kill Dumbledore, despite his Lord's orders. He seemed to have changed. She hadn't heard him bragging about his Death Eater family at school in the past year, though that could just mean he wasn't saying it in public.

Draco drank the Veritaserum that Dumbledore had asked Snape to bring. Surprisingly, many of the Order members trusted Snape.

After Draco had swallowed, he wiped his mouth with his sleeve and sat the vial on the table. The entire Order was watching him unblinkingly.

When Draco's eyes became unfocused, Dumbledore started with a few control questions. "What is your name?"

"Draco."

"Last name?"

"Biologically, my last name is Malfoy, but I renounced my last name when I ran away."

"What do you mean by renounced?"

"My father cut me out of the family fortune, I can't use my last name in fear of him finding me. Not that I _want_ to be related to him any longer."

"What would happen if your father found you?"

"He would torture me for days on end, most likely. He likes to alternate between the Cruciatus and physical violence. He would then force me to become a Death Eater." A few members of the crowd shuddered at how matter-of-factly the young man stated this.

"Is that the reason you want to join the Order?"

"Yes"

"Are there any other reasons? Any hidden agendas?"

"Yes." Many members of the crowd smirked triumphantly at the admission.

"What are they?"

"I want to join the Order so that I can help kill the Dark Lord. If I do this, I could help change someone's life. I also have to be the one to kill my father."

Dumbledore's brow creased and voice softened at this answer. "Why do you want to change someone's life so much, Draco?"

"I've never done anything worthwhile. I've only hurt many people. Now, I need to help. I need a redeeming quality."

"And why do you claim you are the only one who can kill your father?"

"Because it's the truth. He taught me everything he knew. I'm the only one who knows all his tricks and more. I'm the only one who has ever defeated him in a duel."

"You've defeated Lucius Malfoy, your father, in a duel?" Dumbledore asked skeptically.

"How do you think I escaped?" Even under the Veritaserum, the boy had a sarcastic attitude.

Dumbledore smiled and turned to the crowd. Most of them looked stunned. "Anyone have any questions that they want cleared up before I cancel the spell?"

Many of the crowd looked like they wanted to question him, but couldn't come up with any other questions.

Dumbledore silently released the spell and Draco's mercury eyes slowly began to focus again.

The crowd was silent; Ginny knew Draco was swallowing the potion. Ginny heard Dumbledore utter the spell to activate the potion.

Though there were cracks in the old door, Ginny couldn't hear all the questions Dumbledore asked Draco. But she could hear a few of the questions, or their answers.

"Biologically, my last name is Malfoy, but I renounced my last name when I ran away." Ginny knew that this was supposed to be a control question, but instead it had revealed that Draco had run away from his father.

Ginny couldn't hear the next few questions, but eventually heard Dumbledore ask,

"What would happen if your father found you?"

"He would torture me for days on end, most likely. He likes to alternate between the Cruciatus and physical violence. He would then force me to become a Death Eater." Ginny found it interesting that he used the word "force". It seemed that she was right, the boy had changed.

"Any hidden agendas?" Ginny felt Ron, Hermione and Harry tense in anticipation. They knew he wouldn't be able to lie about that.

"Yes." Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Ron and Harry exchange a high-five and then quickly return to the door.

"What are they?" Why was Dumbledore asking this? Shouldn't he kill Draco now?

"I want to join the Order so that I can help kill the Dark Lord. If I do this, I could help change someone's life. I also have to be the one to kill my father."

Ginny pulled her ear away from the door and exchanged an astounded look with Fred, George, Harry, Ron and Hermione.

They quickly returned to the door, but had missed Dumbledore's next question. They caught Draco's answer though, "I've never done anything worthwhile. I've only hurt people. Now, I need to help. I need a redeeming quality." A redeeming quality? Malfoy had changed more than she had thought.

"And why do you claim you are the only one who can kill your father?"

"Because it's the truth. He taught me everything he knew. I'm the only one who knows all his tricks and more. I'm the only one who has ever defeated him in a duel." Ginny was skeptical on the point, but if he wanted to take on his father, one of the most skilled Death Eaters in the world, who were they to stop him? Ginny mused; it didn't look like he was going to fail this test.

Ginny missed Dumbledore's question, but knew it had to be skeptical. From what the Order had gathered of information from many grueling hours of recon jobs, Lucius had never lost a duel. And no one had ever walked away from one when he was the opponent.

"How do you think I escaped?" Ginny had to hold back a snort; he was still sarcastic as hell.

"Anyone have any questions that they want cleared up before I cancel the spell?" There was no answer from the crowd.

"Welcome to the Order of the Phoenix, Draco."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~Hope you enjoyed this new development in the chapter. Next chapter, 4, will have a rape scene in it, but it's not very graphic, I don't think. But, if you don't like that stuff, its only insinuated until the last few lines and… oh no, I have said too much.

As always, review! It makes my day, really and makes me want to keep writing.

**Eveil Woman**, once again, I LOVE your reviews. And I would like to congratulate you on having a story that have been writing for so long and haven't run out of things to write! That's always nice! I just hope that I can one day extend one of my stories that long, I'm not sure, but this one could go on for quite a while.

Anyways, review if you like, it gives me inspiration of sorts, but I'm not going to demand any sort of outrageous number before I post. I'm not even sure whether any one likes it that much…

-Katy.


	4. Savior

Hello. Sorry it's been a little late posting. My posts are going to slow down for a while, as I have exams coming up and TONS of tests. Also, I wanted to make sure I had this chapter completely perfect, and, after reading it about 5 times, I feel like there is no more I can add without giving my entire plot away. But, I won't let the story remain untouched for more than a week. So, enjoy!

Disclaimer: JKR owns the characters affiliated with Harry Potter series. I own Cato and Portia. Skillet owns the song and lyrics to Savior.

-Katy

*

What you got, what you want, what you need?

Gonna be your Savior

Everything's gonna crash and break

But I know, yeah I know

What you got, what you want, what you need?

Gonna be your Savior

Everything's gonna crash and break

Your Savior

It's time to redefine your deophobic mind

Don't hesitate, no escape

From secrets on the inside

There's nothing left to lose

There's nothing left to prove

Surrender your love, it's all you can do..Yeah!

What you got, what you want, what you need?

Gonna be your Savior

Everything's gonna crash and break

But I know, yeah I know

What you got, what you want, what you need?

Gonna be your Savior

Everything's gonna crash and break

Your Savior

Savior, Skillet

*

"NO!" The door to the kitchen flew open and the Order turned as one to see Harry Potter, standing in the doorway, wand aloft. He had blasted the door open. Ron and Hermione were behind him, wands drawn, while Ginny, Fred and George stood in the back, looking surprised at his outburst.

"You can't let him in the Order! He's a Death Eater! He'll get us all killed!"

Draco had to control his facial muscles to keep from laughing. The Golden Boy was making a fool of himself.

Dumbledore threw a disapproving look at Harry. "Harry, he passed the Veritaserum test."

"Professor Dumbledore, he could have tricked it! It isn't infallible!" Harry yelled, his face turning red with anger.

"No Harry, it isn't, but he would have to be better at Occlumency than I am to beat it. Harry, the only person who can possibly beat the Veritaserum test is Voldemort himself, he's had decades of practice. There is no way for Draco to be that good."

"You're making a mistake." And with that, Harry stormed out of the room, Hermione and Ron trailing behind him.

Draco was sitting on his bed, elbows on knees, looking down at the red tattoo that was now imprinted upon his left wrist.

Draco hadn't known the Order had a tattoo as well, but he had been wrong. Order members had the image of a red phoenix tattooed to the wrist of their non-wand arm. A ring of light orange, it looked like light, encircled the phoenix. The phoenix's tail looked like flames, like it was ablaze. It's wings started off as yellow and slowly turned to a dark, regal purple at the tips of its feathers. The tattoo was smaller that the Death Eater symbol. It didn't fill up the wearers forearm, but merely sat on their wrist. It didn't hurt either. When it was put on, it gave off more of a warm glow. Under the burning phoenix, it had the words "The Order of the Phoenix: vereor non cinis cineris". Draco recognized this to be the Latin translation of "fear not the ashes".

Though many Order members opposed the decision of Draco joining the Order, no one had killed him, yet. But that wasn't saying much. Draco had noticed that Harry, Ron and Hermione resented him and avoided him, but he also noticed something about Ginny Weasley: she was too good for any of them. She was one of those rare people who were warm, her smile was genuine, her intentions always true; she was the exact opposite of Draco. Draco had only been a member for around 3 days, but he had noticed these things about Ginny in that short amount of time.

Draco recalled when he had been leaving the Headquarters after he had been initiated into the Order. Draco had been striding alongside Dumbledore, walking down the slight incline towards the dirt road that lead back to Muggle London. Draco had seen a flash of bright red in his periphery and had looked to his left to see Ginny Weasley, arguing with Harry and Ron. Her back was to him, and though he could tell they were arguing, she still had a warm vibe about her, a glow that surrounded and radiated off of her. Draco caught a few words of their conversation, thanks to a sudden warm summer breeze, "Draco is part of the Order now Harry. We have to accept him." "No, we don't Gin. He doesn't belong here, I don't care if he passed the test or not, he's still a Death Eater. He'll always be a Death Eater." So, Ginny Weasley was protecting and defending him? Draco was confused as to what would lead her to do this. What was her ulterior motive? Just then, Ginny had turned around to see Draco looking at them as he passed. Ginny gave him a small nod, recognition that he was one of them, before turning back to Harry and Ron, her flaming red hair bouncing as she turned. Draco suddenly realized that he had unconsciously slowed his pace to watch the scene. He quickly caught up with Dumbledore.

It had taken Draco 2 full days of non-stop obsession to realize that the girl had no ulterior motive. She just believed in camaraderie and loyalty.

*

It was the 5th day after Draco had joined the Order, and Ginny was outside, wearing a yellow sundress, sprawled on the large hill, watching the clouds. She heard footsteps, making the grass crunch behind her and a shadow crossed over her face. Ginny looked up into the green eyes of her boyfriend and smiled.

"Ginny, can you walk with me?" Harry asked, eyes somber.

Ginny sensed his unease. He'd been this way ever since Draco had joined the Order. "Okay... where to?"

"I'm not sure yet."

Ginny got up and started walking. They walked into the woods surrounding the Headquarters. They had been walking for nearly half an hour before he stopped and turned to her.

"Ginny, I'm leaving. Hermione and Ron are too. We can't stay together."

"What? Where are you going? Surely you'll come back soon…?"

"No, Ginny, I might not come back. Ever. I have to go. I don't know where we're going. And if I did, I couldn't tell you. It would put you in danger."

"No, don't. You-You can't leave me."

"I have to Gin. I have to leave. I have to stop Voldemort. It's the only way."

"NO! Don't _say_ that! It's _not_ the only way. I could "

"No, Ginny. It's over. You can't come with us. You're too young."

Ginny flinched at that. "Too young?! I'm a _year_ younger than you, Harry James Potter."

"Look, Ginny, it's over. I can't continue to be your boyfriend. I have more important things to do. I have to save the bloody wizarding world!"

"Fine! Go! Go save the wizarding world! But when you're finished, don't come back. I won't _want_ you when you get back!" Ginny was screaming now, but she didn't cry. She wouldn't in front of him. She wouldn't let him see her cry.

Harry flinched at her screams. His eyes hardened and he turned on his heel, leaving her alone, in the woods.

*

Ginny leaned against a tree and sunk to the ground, curling into a ball. She let out her emotions; she started crying, the tears flowing down her face. Her dress was getting wrinkled, it probably had dirt on it, but she didn't care. She didn't care about anything except the pain. She couldn't feel anything, except her heart. Her heart felt like it was being torn in two by _his_ hands, over and over again.

*

Ginny wasn't sure how long she had been crying. It could have been minutes. Hours. Days. Weeks. But she couldn't cry any more. Her body could no longer produce tears. The tears had stopped long ago, and for a while she had just sat there, hugging herself at the bottom of a tree, trying not to scream, but usually failing.

Eventually, she got up and started walking. She didn't want to go back to the Order; she couldn't face them right now. The Order was strong, fierce. They didn't cry. Instead, she walked in the opposite direction, towards muggle London. She knew that even though they were in the country, the walk to muggle London really wasn't that far, if you knew how to get there.

Ginny had been walking for what she estimated to be around 2 and half hours. She had walked through the woods until they gave way to dirt roads. The dirt roads then changed to streets, which eventually led to muggle London. She hadn't known where she was going until she arrived there: the Leaky Cauldron. She walked straight to the back. Tom, the bartender looked up hopefully at her, but she didn't look at him.

When Ginny reached the back of the Leaky Cauldron, she drew her wand and tapped on the bricks to open Diagon Alley.

Ginny stepped through the archway into Diagon Alley, knowing that she still needed to walk around, to clear her mind. The entrace to Diagon Alley reformed behind her, but Ginny didn't notice. Ginny wandered aimlessly, mindlessly. She passed stores and vendors, shoppers and families. She tuned out the sounds of their happy chatter, staring at the ground while she walked, but not really seeing. Her eyes were unfocused, her head bowed.

Suddenly, Ginny's head snapped up. She had noticed that she could no longer hear the sounds of the happy people; she had wandered past where most people went. With a sinking feeling, she realized that she had no idea where she was. She was lost.

Behind her, she heard voices. Ginny slowly turned, looking for the source of the voices. She scanned the street, searching for any signs of people. There. Outside of a tavern, were two cloaked figures. They saw Ginny and one of them pointed towards her. Ginny gasped when she saw their faces. Or lack of. Death Eater masks. Ginny started backing up; the figures were crossing the street towards her. She started running, back from where she had come, or at least she hoped so.

The Death Eaters picked up their pace, easily keeping up with the frantic girl. Ginny was running aimlessly, sprinting down random streets, heart pounding in her ears. She could hear them laughing at her, laughing at her failed attempts to evade them.

Her hair was flying around her face, her arms pumping, her muscles burning. Her shoes had long fallen off, her feet were bleeding but she couldn't feel it. Ginny turned her head and saw that they were catching up. Her red bangs were getting in her eyes. When Ginny turned her head forward again, she saw that she was at a dead end. Ginny skidded to a stop, turned around and started firing spells at the men. She hit one with a body bind and he fell, but the other was slowly advancing. Ginny looked up at the sky. Night had fallen. Ginny quickly shot an orange light-producing spell in the air, hoping it would act as a flare.

*

Draco was walking around Diagon Alley, dressed causally in a pair of jeans and a grey-blue vintage muggle t-shirt. He still lived above Flourish and Blotts for now, though most of the Order lived at Headquarters. Draco wanted to wait for them to trust him more before he moved in with them. Though he wasn't sure how long he could wait. His father would eventually come looking for him.

Draco looked up at the sky, night had fallen and the stars were out. As he was stargazing, Draco saw a burst of orange light out of the corner of his eye. It was coming from Knockturn Alley. It wasn't far away either, a couple hundred feet to his right. Draco steeled himself, knowing the flare couldn't be good. Probably Death Eaters, Draco thought. A girl's scream pierced the night air and, without thinking, Draco took off running, his feet pounding into the cobblestone. He was flying down the alleys, taking seemingly random turns, just trying to get towards the source of the orange light.

Finally, Draco was approximately where he thought the orange light had gone off. The girl had stopped screaming, but in the case of Death Eaters, that meant nothing. Draco ran down the street, looking into each side street before dashing to the next. He didn't know why, but he desperately wanted to stop whatever was happening to the girl. A girl he didn't know.

Draco glanced to the right into a dead end, he continued running until a flash of red caught his eye. Draco immediately stopped and started walking towards the red. What he saw made his blood boil.

A Death Eater had a girl pinned underneath him. He was raping her while his friend watched.

Without telling his body to, Draco ran farther into the alley, shooting off the Killing Curse at the Death Eater on top of the girl. The Death Eater collapsed, dead, on top of her. Draco neared the girl, dragged the body off of her and threw her body behind his in one fluid motion.

The second Death Eater had taken a while to realize what was happening, but now had his eyes locked on Draco's mercury ones.

"Well, well, well, Draco. Gone and joined the Order, eh? I can't wait to tell your father I've found you. I'll get a hefty amount of gold for that, I bet."

Draco realized with a feeling of dread that he knew the cloaked figure. Had attended school with him, had even asked his assistance in bullying other Houses a few times. "Goyle, shut your trap you filthy bastard. You think I'm going to let you walk away? I beat Lucius." Draco saw Goyle's brow raise at this "You're skill level can't even begin to compete with mine. There's no way you're getting out of here." With that, without hesitation, without remorse, Draco shot the Incendio spell at Gregory Goyle, making him burst into flames.

As soon as Goyle was aflame, Draco turned to the witch at his side. He saw her red hair, registering that this was what had alerted him to her presence in the alley. He looked into her face, just having enough time to realize that he knew the witch, that he had saved Ginny Weasley, before her brown eyes rolled into the back of her head and she fainted. Draco fell to his knees to and wrapped his arms around her waist as she fell, his body acting as a cushion.

He sat there, in a dark, damp alley, on his shins, with an unconscious Ginny Weasley in his arms, with a dead Death Eater's body lying a couple of feet away, watching one of his old school friends burn to hell. And, for once, nothing felt wrong.

*

After sending the flare into the sky, Ginny returned her attention to the Death Eater before her. He was quickly approaching her. He was a large man, and she knew she wouldn't be able to match him in physical combat. She had to take him down before he got too close. She tried another body bind spell, but he dodged it. She then sent her infamous bat boogey hex at him, but he dodged that as well.

He hit her with the Cruciatus Curse and she screamed in pain. Her body seized with the pain. After he released it, Ginny's body fell to the ground, limp and unmoving.

She lay on the cold ground, unable to move. Her body felt like it had been slashed with thousands of razor blades all over. All she could do was try to remember how to breathe, to not let the darkness over take her just yet. She had to hold on.

The man was standing right in front of her now. He got down on his knees and caressed her face. He grabbed the back of her head and forced his lips on hers. He forced his tongue into her mouth. Ginny thought she was going to throw up. She saw her hand fly into the air and heard the resounding smack before she registered that she was slapping him. He became angry and put his hand up her dress. She balled up her fist and hit him with a right hook. It sunk into his face, breaking his nose. Her brothers would have been proud. It only made him angrier. He slapped her face with such force that it brought tears to her eyes.

His hand roughly groped her inner thigh and then he violated her with his dirty fingers. She kicked at his stomach, only making impact once. In retaliation, he took a punch at her ribs. She heard a sickening crack and felt an explosion of pain.

By the time he was done with that, the other Death Eater had awoken and come to join his partner. He started groping her breasts while the first Death Eater exposed himself to her. She tried to kick him again, but her hit her in the face, with such force that she saw stars and quit fighting for a few seconds.

Ginny started screaming, "Let go of me, you sick pervert!" The Death Eater only chuckled at her and put a silencing charm on her. "We've got a feisty one, Goyle."

Goyle. Ginny's heart stopped. She'd gone to school with these disgusting, dirty men. She had known them all her childhood. Had they done the same to others that they were about to do to her? Vincent Crabbe and Gregory Goyle.

Ginny continued fighting. She wouldn't give up that easily. She thrashed and fought, bit and kicked. Every time she hit one of them, they hit her back twice as hard.

She didn't know when the tears started; she had thought she had run out after this afternoon in the woods. That felt like years, decades, ago. But Crabbe and Goyle had noticed the tears, and they were mocking her for it.

"Oh, crying are we, you pathetic blood traitor? I liked it better when you screamed." With that, he grabbed the back of her hair, yanking it roughly, watching her scream. He was unable to hear the sound because of the silencing spell he had cast.

As a last resort, Ginny started to beg. Her mouth opened and closed, forming the words 'please' and 'stop' again and again with her mouth, but not being able to hear her voice. Ginny wasn't sure that her voice could have been heard, even without the spell. But she had to try. She couldn't meet this fate.

Goyle watched as the young witch's pink lips formed the words he and Crabbe had been waiting for. Please.

Then, Crabbe pried open her legs and thrust into her, hard. He stole her virginity. She tried to continue fighting, but she was too tired from trying to fight them off. Her mind went blank and she tried to concentrate on the sky, tried to block out the pain, tried to revolve her world around the beautiful stars above her while he pounded into her, ripping her soul in two. Tears streamed down her eyes, she wished that she were dead, that she was up there in the stars. The only thing that kept her awake was the pain. For the second time today, she was experiencing the feeling of being hacked apart.

Suddenly, she saw a jet of green light and the Death Eater fell on top of her, feeling like dead weight. Just as quickly, he was thrown off of her and she was tucked behind someone's body.

Then, there were flames. And heat. Ginny's mind couldn't comprehend what was happening and it started to shut down. She was exhausted. The darkness was closing in around her, engulfing her. Finally, she would sink into the sweet abyss of unconsciousness.

The last thing saw before she gave in to the darkness was the face of her savior, the flames of the fire reflected in his mercury eyes.

Well? what did you think? Let me know! Review!

A special thanks **Eveil Woman, **she has helped me a lot with this story and I appreciate her advice SO much! And, she has some of the BEST reviews around!

As well as thank you to **FreezingFire81**, I loved your review!

Until we meet again,

-Katy


	5. Aftermath

Hey guys! This is chapter 5. I don't really know how to describe it, so I'm not going to try. Enjoy.

Disclaimer: JKR owns Harry Potter and all characters affiliated with it.

Rob Thomas and his record label own Someday. It's a great song, if anyone wants to listen to it.

-Katy

*

You can hide

Hold all your feelings inside

You can try to carry on when all

you want to do is cry

And maybe someday

We'll figure all this out

Try to put an end to all our doubt

Try to find a way to make

things better now and

Maybe someday we'll live

our lives out loud

We'll be better off somehow Someday

-Someday, Rob Thomas

*

Draco stared at the unconscious redhead in his arms as the reflected flames danced off her skin. What to do? Where to go? The flames stopped burning and Draco and Ginny were plunged into darkness. He had to leave. Had to get them both out of there before more Death Eaters showed up.

Draco swung the girl up in his arms, one arm supporting her head, one under her knees. He would go to his house. Cato would know what to do. Hopefully.

Draco ran. He fled. He had to, for Ginny's sake. If it had just been him in that dark alley, he would have hunted down every single Death Eater within a 10-mile radius and personally killed them. But he couldn't. He didn't have the time. He had to get Ginny some medical attention. Her face was swollen, she was bleeding.

Knowing Crabbe and Goyle, they had probably hit her around before raping her. Among the Death Eaters, the two men were known for their brutality.

Draco was fuming. His head was pounding with the rage he felt. He felt like his anger could have split the world into two. He couldn't understand why a person as pure and innocent and good as Ginny Weasley had to meet such an awful event. Draco had seen her over the past few days, had seen how she made the room brighter, how she tried to help anyone who needed it. Draco had never seen anything like this kindness and it amazed him. It wasn't fair. But, as Lucius had taught him, the world was never fair. It was many things, cruel, harsh, even ironic at times, but never fair.

Draco was still sprinting; he had almost made it out of Knockturn Alley. Draco was ashamed that he had ever hung out with those filthy, repulsive, loathsome creatures. He wanted to go take a cold shower for ever having been associated with them. For ever having been associated with Death Eaters. This was one of the many reasons he had never wanted to be a Death Eater. What they did was wrong. They killed and raped innocent people. They got drunk at bars and then harassed young girls. They beat their sons and wives. They were evil.

Draco had finally reached Flourish and Blotts. He kicked in the door, not having any arms to open it with, and ran in, calling for the owner, Cato.

"Cato! Close the shop! Bring your wife's medicine kit! It's an emergency!" Draco saw the worried storeowner come running from the back of the store, kit in hand.

"What? What is it Draco?" Cato stopped cold when he saw the young girl in Draco's arms, face bruised, body broken and bleeding. "Oh my.."

Draco nodded gravely. "Get your wife, we'll need her help. She was raped."

Cato took off towards the back of the store, where he and his wife slept.

Draco looked at the medicine kit Cato had left lying on the ground. With a sigh, Draco left the kit, not having any way of picking it up.

Draco carefully carried Ginny up the stairs to his room, he didn't know where else to go. He laid her down on the bed and sat next to her, the only thing he could do was wait until Cato and his wife got there.

Not long after, Cato and his wife, Portia, ran through the door, medicine kit in hand, thankfully. Portia immediately strode towards the bed, while Cato stood awkwardly at the door. Seeing this, Draco asked the man to send an owl to Molly Weasley, telling her that her daughter had been attacked and that she was at Flourish and Blotts. Draco could not send the letter himself incase it was intercepted.

With a relieved look, Cato nodded and ran back down the stairs. Draco shook his head; the man was a wonderful bookkeeper, but a healer he was not.

Draco looked down at Ginny's face, the bruise that marred her face jumping out at him; it started from the edge of her jawbone and worked its way over her left eye. It was already swelling. Draco's eyes slid over the girl's bruised and broken body. She looked so fragile, laying on the bed. She looked vulnerable.

Draco looked up to see Portia staring at him. She smiled slightly at him and then went back to work on Ginny's wounds.

Draco mentally checked to see if his mask had slipped. He didn't think it had. Draco was afraid of what Portia may have seen if it had. Draco didn't show sadness and pain for others; he had to keep his rigid reputation if his plan was going to work. He watched as Portia worked on Ginny's face, relieving some of the swelling and discoloration. Draco didn't help, as the only person who's wounds he had healed were his own and he didn't want to screw anything up while healing the young girl. Portia worked downwards to Ginny's collarbone; it was heavily bruised as well. Draco watched with interest, until Portia turned to him, informing him that he would have to leave.

Draco gave her a confused look and then realized that Portia would have to lift Ginny's shirt to check for injuries. Draco dropped Ginny's hand, he hadn't realized he'd been holding it, nodded solemnly and walked out the door.

When he was outside in the corridor, Draco found the nearest wall, stood against it and then slowly sunk to its bottom. He sat there, left leg stuck straight out, the right bent at the knee, his right arm resting on his right leg, his head hanging. Draco stared at the floor, caught in his thoughts.

A while later, he wasn't sure how long exactly, though he usually had an excellent internal clock, he heard the sounds of many footsteps coming. Ginny's family. Draco stood, sighing and placed himself in the middle of the hallway, blocking their way.

"Out of the way, Malfoy"

"Yea, move"

Draco heard many voices produced by many red heads, telling him to butt out, get lost and a number of other vulgar things. Draco just squared his jaw and looked straight at the large family. "Look, your sister has just been raped. She's unconscious at the moment and the bookkeepers wife is checking on her wounds. But when she awakes, she isn't going to want to see a bunch of people crowding around her. Particularly considering how small my room is. So, Mrs. Weasley, I will allow you inside, but no one else. Understand?" Draco realized his voice must have shown some sort of emotion, as they were all quiet. He just hoped it was anger. Anger he could explain. Anything else, any other emotion, particularly sadness, he couldn't.

*

"Mrs. Weasley, Portia and I were wondering, would you like to take your daughter to St. Mungo's?" Draco asked softly.

"No, no. It would just be more traumatizing for her to wake up in that place, and Portia is doing an excellent job." The woman responded, sounding drained. Tears were rolling down her face at the sight of her daughter, but she made no sound. She cried silently.

*

Draco wandered downstairs early the next morning to find most of the Weasley family asleep in the bookstore. It appeared that two of the sons were missing: Ron and the one the called Percy. Draco hadn't slept last night; of course, he had been watching Portia tend to Ginny all night. But Draco was used to nights without sleep.

Draco silently crept among the books, looking for the one he had been reading recently. It was about defensive shields. Draco was constantly reading up on defensive and offensive magic, now that he was a fugitive from his father.

As Draco turned a corner, he noticed that one of the Weasley's wasn't asleep. One of the older ones, Bill or Charlie, was looking at him. He had a Dragon's tooth earring in his left ear, and like nearly everyone of age in the shop, sported the Order's tattoo. Draco politely nodded and moved on, but the man got up and started following him. Finally, Draco came to two large, plush, green chairs at the back of the store. He sat down on one and the Weasley sat in the other.

Draco stared around the shop, waiting for the man to speak.

"I'm Charlie. You found my sister, right Draco?"

Draco nodded in affirmation, but did not comment.

"I'll admit, I was a bit shocked when I heard, but… Thanks."

Draco looked at the man, the expression on his face shocked. He was obviously wondering why someone would use the word "thanks" in such a vulgar situation, but he didn't comment.

"How is she?" Charlie asked.

Draco took a deep breath and sighed, "She has a broken rib, a split lip, and her face and collar bone are pretty bruised up. And she broke her knuckles, but she did that by fighting back." Draco and Charlie shared a small smile at the last part.

"Where did you find her?"

"In Knockturn Alley. I had been wandering around Diagon when I saw a flare go off. Smart sister you have."

"Yea, she's a spit fire though," Charlie laughed, but Draco couldn't help noticing that it sounded empty.

"I couldn't help noticing that Ron's missing. Where is he?"

"He took off with Harry and Hermione after Ginny went missing."

Draco looked appalled.

"That's not the worst though. The reason Gin was wandering alone in Knockturn Alley last night is because Harry broke up with her and then left her in the woods near Headquarters. I guess she wandered here."

"Golden Boy or not, I'll kill him."

Charlie looked surprised at the emotion evident in Draco's voice but didn't comment.

The two men talked for a bit longer. The sun was just rising when Charlie got up and excused himself, saying that he wanted to try to send another letter to Ron and Percy, they had so far proved unreachable. As Charlie was walking away, the man suddenly stopped in midstride, turned his head and called over his should. "I was wrong, you know. We were all wrong."

Draco was puzzled by the dragon trainers comment, "About what?"

"About you. You're more of an Order member than some who have been in the order for years. You killed two Death Eaters last night; something few of us have ever done. We were wrong. We need you. "

*

Draco wandered back upstairs. It was around 10 in the morning now and most of the Weasley's had awoken. They were all asking Draco about Ginny's condition, not something Draco fancied discussing.

Draco had reached his room. He wasn't sure what to do. Should he knock? Should he stay out in the hall? Would his face cause horrible flashbacks and traumatize Ginny further? As Draco was pondering upon the possibility that she would get so upset at the sight of him that she may punch him, Mrs. Weasley wandered out of the room, looking distraught. Mrs. Weasley stopped when she saw Draco there.

"She's awake. And she wants to see you."

Draco nodded and was about to walk into the room when he turned towards Mrs. Weasley again.

"We need to move her soon, the Death Eaters will come looking for me."

"They don't usually do that sort of thing." Mrs. Weasley looked worried.

"No, they don't, their organization has no honor, but my father will recognize the second killing as mine."

"How could he possibly do that?"

"I didn't use the Killing Curse. Not many wizards kill without using an Unforgivable." With that, Draco turned and walked into his room.

*

Ginny was in darkness. She couldn't feel anything. It was bliss. The last thing she had felt was excruciating pain, and then a heavy weight on top of her, and then the feeling of exhaustion so complete that she could barely think. Darkness was good. Numbness was good.

But Ginny was returning. Returning to light, returning to pain. Returning to the world.

Ginny slowly came to consciousness, but her eyes were still closed, she was still in darkness. Suddenly, Ginny could feel again. And all she could feel was pain. It was so much so that she couldn't concentrate on her eyes, couldn't find her eyes to open them. Ginny heard words, jumbled and confused, like she was hearing them from underwater. It was a woman's voice, one she had never heard.

Ginny felt a slight sting in her arm and then relief.

Ginny could concentrate again. She found her eyes and slowly opened them; the first thing she saw was light, bright, blinding, white light. Then, the light slowly dissipated and Ginny saw the vaulted ceiling of a room, one she was certain she had never been in. Ginny stared at the ceiling for a few moments and then, out of the corner of her eye, she saw red. The red of her childhood, of safety, of her home, of her family. Her mothers face slowly moved into Ginny's line of vision.

The sight of her mothers face made Ginny's heart stop. What was wrong? Who was dead? Had someone been captured by Death Eaters?

"Ginny, dear, how are you?" Her mother's voice scared Ginny even more. Her mother was a loud woman. Ginny had never heard her mothers voice so small and gentle.

"I- I'm fine, mum. What's wrong? Who's dead? What's happened?"

Molly shared a look with a woman in the room who Ginny hadn't noticed before. She was tall, with prominent cheekbones, and brown-grey hair pulled back in a braid. Her dark eyes looked concerned. "Ginny, what is the last thing you remember?" Her mother asked, using that soft voice again.

Ginny thought for a while. She remembered having breakfast yesterday. Then she had walked outside, wearing a new yellow sundress and watched the clouds, sighing contentedly in the warmth of the sun. Then… nothing. Her memory went dark. It was like there was a lock on her memory. Ginny focused, immersing herself in breaking the lock. Then, suddenly the lock had cracked, the door had opened and all the events of the past 24 hours came flooding back, overwhelming her. Harry walking beside her, telling her that he was leaving. The breakup. Crying in the woods. Stumbling blindly for miles. Finding herself alone in Diagon alley. The Death Eaters, no, Crabbe and Goyle, chasing her, laughing. The rape. Being saved and her last memory, the mercury eyes of her savior. All the memories flitted past her minds eye, like a movie played in fast forward.

Molly Weasley watched her daughters face change from confusion to concentration to pain to agony, all within the span of around 10 seconds. Her heart broke as the young girl's face crumpled and she started crying.

Ginny hadn't noticed that tears were, once again, falling down her face until she was enveloped in her mothers arms, her mothers voice telling her not to cry and that everything would be alright.

Ginny quickly got control over her sobs, putting on a brave face. The Order wouldn't want a recruit to cry, no matter that she wasn't technically a recruit yet. "Who saved me?" she asked her mother, she couldn't keep her voice from trembling, so she tried to keep her words limited.

Molly saw Ginny slowly try to gain control of her emotions, and while this broke Molly's heart even more, it also told her that her baby girl would return to normal eventually. That this event wouldn't break her. "Draco saved you, Ginny. He saw the flare you sent into the sky."

Ginny was shocked at this answer, but took it in stride. She couldn't be picky about who saved her. "Can I talk to him?"

"Sure I'll go get him." Her mother said with her quiet voice. Ginny watched as her mother got off the bed and strode across the small room to the door.

*

Ginny wanted to see him? He didn't understand why. He would have thought his face would be a horrible reminder of a past she wanted to forget.

Draco quietly walked into his room to see Ginny Weasley propped up in his bed. Draco didn't know what to do, so he sat in an empty chair next to the bed. He wasn't sure how close she wanted him, if his presence would scare her or comfort her. Draco sneaked a look at Ginny, her eyes were red, she'd been crying. Her face was bruised and swollen.

They sat there in an uncomfortable silence until Ginny took it upon herself to state the obvious: "You saved me."

Draco nodded but otherwise did not respond. He noted how her voice sounded emotionless.

"Thank you."

Her voice sounded so small, yet so genuinely honest that Draco looked at her.

"I don't know why every one is saying that today. It's hardly an action that deserves thanking. Doing the right thing shouldn't be rewarded. " Draco responded, his voice rough. He hadn't even known he'd been thinking those thoughts until he said them aloud.

"Because, you saved me from them. They would have killed me. And you saved me. You didn't have to, you could have decided you were too afraid and hid until they were gone. But you didn't. You helped me. "

"Running and hiding was never an option. The moment saw the flare and heard your scream I took off running. There wasn't any time for me to consider any other options."

"Well, I'm glad you did it." Ginny said, voice trembling once again.

"I'm not. I wish I hadn't had to save you. I wish I had killed those bastards long ago. I had had the chance, plenty of times, I knew what they were doing, all the Death Eaters knew. I could have stopped them, but I didn't. I should have, but I was too scared." Draco's words caught him off guard, they came tumbling out of his mouth before he could stop them.

Ginny heard the emotion in his voice and knew that it was hard for him to admit this. But, deep down inside, she wished he had made it there sooner. Instead, she said in a small voice, "You couldn't have. You would have been killed."

"I still could have tried, I could have tried to run after I killed them. I'm so sorry, Ginny. So sorry that I didn't do it."

Ginny reached over to grab his hand. "Draco, it's okay. Really. Thank you for saving me."

Her voice sounded so small and broken, Draco felt even worse, but he knew there was nothing he could do anymore. Draco was startled when she grabbed his hand, but didn't mind. He idly wondered when the topic had turned from her broken soul to his guilty one. Draco decided to turn the conversation back to her. "Are you okay? Does anything hurt?"

Ginny smiled a sad smile; she knew what he was doing. "I'm fine."

"We will need to move you soon. Someone might come looking for me."

"You're coming then, right?"

Draco stopped short. In the past few hours, he hadn't thought about that. When he had thought about his father looking for him, his only thoughts had been of Ginny being there and possibly being hurt in the crossfire. But, now that he thought about it, he had been in wizarding London too long. He had to leave. Wizarding London was far too small to elude his father forever. "Yes, I guess I am."

Ginny gave him a small smile at this.

Draco suddenly realized what Ginny was doing. Why she had turned the conversation on him. "Ginny. You don't have to be brave right now. It's ok to cry."

Ginny's eyes started sparkling with tears at hearing this, but she managed to keep them from falling. "Yes. I do. I have to be strong, the Order is strong. I can't cry anymore."

"No, Ginny. Any member of the Order would cry if the same thing happened to them. You're in pain, what happened, those men what they did to you was wrong." Draco winced inside, he had almost said "raped", he wasn't sure if she was ready to hear those words or not.

Ginny broke down into silent sobs. Tears rolled down her cheeks, leaving tracks. Her eyes and nose became red and her body was wracked with the sobs.

Draco didn't know how, but his body was moving on its own accord. He was suddenly sitting on the bed next to Ginny, his arms wrapping around her, his hand pressing her head gently to his chest.

Draco found himself whispering comforting things into her ear, "It will be better, someday. We'll figure it out, okay? It'll be okay. I promise." Draco knew these were the exact words he had wanted to hear, whispered in his ear by someone he loved, when he was lying on the floor, bloody and bruised, with Lucius' wand pointed at his face.

*

Everything was packed. Draco had never unpacked since arriving at the bookstore after his hell-bent and narrow escape from the house of his father. He had been ready to flee at a moments notice, and now the time had come.

Many of the Weasleys' had left to go ahead of them. Only Charlie, Ginny, Mrs. Weasley and Mr. Weasley were left. The Weasleys would drive while Draco and Charlie flew ahead.

Draco had insisted on flying, saying that if they did run into Death Eaters, they would only want to go after Draco, and he could easily dodge their spells from the air. The Weasleys had insisted that Charlie accompany him.

Draco looked over at Charlie, the twenty-something man was riding on Cato's old Comet, looking perfectly at ease. The bookkeeper had let Charlie borrow the broom, saying that he had no use for it. Charlie's red hair was darker than Ginny's. Ginny's was more of a light red, while Charlie's was so deep of a red, it almost look black.

The pair had been flying in silence for around 10 minutes before Draco suddenly broke the silence. "Chocolate frog?"

Charlie looked at him, startled. "Where'd you get that?"

"I stole it." Draco said bluntly, a mischievous look in his silver eyes.

"When? I didn't see you steal it."

"When I swooped lower to the ground. Of course you didn't see it, what kind of thief would I be then?" Draco asked matter of factly.

Charlie laughed at this, shook his head and kept flying.

*

"We need a hunting party." Draco suddenly informed him. They had been flying for nearly half an hour now. Draco wasn't used to the slow speed that Charlie's Comet was flying at, but he desperately needed to talk with Charlie, so he was willing to starve his speed addiction for now.

Charlies broom swerved from the shock, once he had righted it, he turned to look at Draco. "What?"

"We need a hunting party." Draco said slowly, maybe he should try to ease the man into this.

"I heard you, but why do you say this?"

"Because we do. The Order is being hunted, we might as well hunt back. It's what the Death Eaters fear most. That the Order will retaliate. They act cocky, claiming that the Order of the Phoenix can't possibly begin to compete with them, but their lying through their teeth. They know that you have some of the most talented witches and wizards to ever exist. And they're scared. We need to start reducing their numbers. And I need to help you with that. So, we start a hunting party. We go looking for the Death Eaters, like they look for us. And when we find them, we kill them." Draco said, all the while facing straight forward.

Charlie was speechless. This was the most he had ever heard Draco say. And he had said it with passion. The man obviously wanted this and thought it was a good idea. "Why are you telling me this?"

"Because, before I introduce this to the Order, I need a few allies. You're strong. And you were one of the first people to tell me that I belonged to the Order. Most of the Order members don't know of the events of last night. And even when they do, it might take a lot of convincing for them to accept me. Springing this crazy idea on them won't help things either."

"Who else do you need as an ally?" Charlie asked abruptly.

"Else? So you'll help me?" Draco smiled.

"You saved my sister, I would trust you with my life, Draco. You killed two Death Eaters, you have faced your father and lived. You are possibly the best wizard of this generation. "

"I thought you Gryffindor's liked to accredit that title to Hermione Granger?" Draco said, but he couldn't keep the teasing out of his voice. He liked Charlie.

"Well, we do. But she's a witch, not a wizard." Charlie said with a laugh.

Draco laughed at that, his first real laugh in quite a while. The two continued to joke around and plan for the introduction of Draco's idea the entire ride to Headquarters.

*

So, what'd you think? Let me know! Thanks again, to **Eveil Woman **and **lucygirl07** for reviewing! Your reviews make me so happy! Also, next chapter will either make the story or break it. It depends on if you want this to be an action-filled adventure of awesomeness. Which is what I'm planning. But, if that's not your thing, let me know.

-Katy


	6. From Insanity Stem Scars

Hey, I finally found some time to post! Woohoo! But anyway, school is getting mega-busy, because of the holidays, so my updates will become less and less frequent. But, I am currently working on Chapter 9 on this story, so I'm still ahead! For now.

Disclaimer- Every character belongs to JKR. Plot is mine. Lyrics to Scars belong to Papa Roach.

Enoy!

-Katy

Chapter 6: From Insanity Stem Scars

I tear my heart open, I sew myself shut

My weakness is that I care too much

And my scars remind me that the past is real

I tear my heart open just to feel

Drunk and I'm feeling down

And I just wanna be alone

I'm pissed cause you came around

Why don't you just go home

Cause you channel all your pain

And I can't help you fix yourself

You're making me insane

All I can say is

I tear my heart open, I sew myself shut

My weakness is that I care too much

And our scars remind us that the past is real

I tear my heart open just to feel

-Papa Roach, Scars.

Draco stood in the kitchen of the Order, facing 6 other people. Bill, Charlie, Fred and George Weasley, Tonks, who was his cousin as it turned out, and Remus Lupin, one of Draco's old professors. The kitchen was empty, so they had plenty of time to plan their introduction of the "hunting party" before the Order meeting tonight.

The Order was supposed to gather in the kitchen that night to discuss Ginny's attack and her rescue by Draco.

Draco turned to Charlie and asked him to explain Ginny's situation. Draco didn't feel like discussing the entire thing again, but he knew that Remus and Tonks needed to hear it if they were going to trust him enough to let him lead and train them, though Draco wished he could have found another way to earn their trust.

That's where the entire plan led really. Draco turned to look out the kitchen window; he could see several Order members walking about. Draco thought about his plan, he had yet to tell them that the people gathered there would probably have to join him as a test group, or sorts. Draco knew that was what Dumbledore would want. Dumbledore would want a test group to be trained, most likely under Draco, seeing as the whole thing was his idea, and then go out into the field. Draco had assembled an odd number of witches and wizards because he had one more member in mind. But she was a bit unavailable at the moment. Ginny Weasley. Draco wanted her on his team. He wanted to teach her how to defend herself. He knew it would take a _lot_ of convincing for the Order to let her in. After all, she was still underage and she'd just been raped, but that was one of the reasons Draco wanted her to join so badly. He wanted to teach her how to defend herself, not only magically, but also physically. He had to.

Draco wasn't sure why he wanted to help the little witch so much; maybe it was because she reminded him a bit of himself. If Draco hadn't been raised the way he was, if he hadn't learned how to fight, the muggle way and magically, to steal, to spy, at a young age, he may have very well ended up like her: broken.

Draco turned back to the crowd of young wizards, and witch, surrounding him. Charlie was just finishing up with the story.

"And so, as it turned out, Draco was the one who saved Ginny. He had seen her flare and ran in to find her, even though he had no idea who had set the flare off. He killed the two Death Eaters and got Ginny and himself out alive. "

Draco cringed internally at the awe in the young man's voice. He hadn't really meant to be heroic, it had never seemed that heroic. It had been a subconscious response. His flight or fight response had always been heavily leaned towards fight. Especially when damsels in distress were involved; if Lucius had taught him one thing, it was to always be chivalrous towards women.

Draco saw the attention of Tonks and Lupin shift from Charlie to himself. It was time. He decided to put it bluntly: "We need a hunting party."

Lupins eyebrows lifted in surprise, nearly burying themselves in his hairline, and Tonks opened her mouth to say something, but Draco held up his hand.

"The Death Eaters hunt innocent people, they hunt Order members. We need to start lowering their numbers. They're getting too large, we don't have a large enough army to take them on. We need to start hunting them down, like they do to us. Like they tried to do to Ginny."

Draco looked at their faces the entire time he spoke. He knew that Bill, Charlie, Fred, and George were with him all the way, but he needed these two for his team to be (nearly) complete. Draco watched as their faces changed from surprise, to contradiction, to acceptance, to affirmation. As soon as Draco saw determination flit across their features, he knew he had them. He knew they were as loyal to him as the Weasley brothers. Now, it was time to possibly break that loyalty.

"But, Dumbledore will insist on a test team. And it will be us. " Draco was now watching the faces of all six of the people in the room. He was looking for any signs of wavering. To his surprise, he saw none.

Draco continued, "This is your last chance to back out. You can turn around and leave and no one will think any less of you."

"Well, George and I will think less of you if anyone walks out. Right, George?" Fred chimed in.

"Absolutely, Fred." George responded.

And with that, the tension in Draco's neck was relieved. He knew these 6 wizards and witch would follow him wherever he went, they would listen to his instructions and guidance, they would hunt, fight, and possibly die with him. Now, it was time to _really_ test their loyalty. "And… I want Ginny Weasley to eventually join our team."

Draco knew this would anger the Weasley brothers. And he was right.

"Are you crazy, Draco?! She was just raped!"

"She isn't able to defend herself against Death Eaters, obviously!"

"We can't allow her to join us on this crazy mission! She'll get herself killed!"

Draco listened to every one of their complaints, until he had heard enough. Draco stood up straighter and put his pinkies in his mouth, as he had seen Mrs. Weasley do the day he had joined the Order. Draco whistled, noting with satisfaction that all the Weasley's cringed and stopped yelling at once.

"I know your sister was raped! I was there, remember? That's the reason she needs to join the team! She needs to learn how to defend herself, both physically and with spells. None of you are ready to face the Death Eaters yet, we will need to train. Tonks, I will teach you how to walk silently without touching anything. The rest of you I will teach how to pick locks, to steal things, to dodge spells on the ground and in the air, defensive spells, to fight like a muggle, and even to kill a Death Eater without an Unforgivable. Ginny Weasley needs to learn these things; it's for her own protection. Someone won't always be around to save her."

The brothers seemed to relent at the last sentence.

"Why would we need to kill a Death Eater without using an Unforgivable?" Lupin asked with curiosity in his eyes.

"It's what I'm known to do by my father. He sees me as weak, as I've never cast the killing curse, though I've killed plenty in my lifetime. It will also send a message to the Death Eaters. It will show them that we don't need to resort to their methods in order to kill them off. It will cause chaos and pandemonium, which is what we want."

*

Draco now found himself standing in front of the entire Order, listening to details of Ginny's rape and rescue for the second time today. The Order packed the room; many of the members were standing. Draco looked across the room to where the girl in question sat. She looked like she would break at any moment. Draco quickly moved through the crowd, towards Ginny. When he got to where she sat, he bent down, so that his face was at level with hers, then he whispered quietly in her ear, "I'll take you to your room, you don't have to be here for this."

He saw her about to protest, so he shot her a knowing look, he knew she was trying to be strong again, pretending that nothing was wrong, that hearing her own rape described wasn't bothering her in the least. Draco knew better. Draco took her by the arm, helping her out of the chair. He nodded to Molly, who had been sitting next to her daughter. Molly shot him a grateful look; apparently she had been trying to convince Ginny to leave as well.

Draco led Ginny out of the room, across the hall to the stairs. As he was mounting the stairs he realized he didn't know where her room was. When he voiced his concern, Ginny said that she would show him.

Ginny took his hand and dragged him down the left hall, past many rooms. Draco had been right; the house had had an enlarging spell cast upon it. Finally, Ginny came to a stop at a door on the right. She opened the door and led Draco inside. She then went immediately to her bed and sat down on it.

Draco stepped inside and saw that the room wasn't nearly as bare as his was. He had moved his things into a room one floor above this morning. She had a desk, which had several trinkets on it, including a Pygmy Puff, which Draco knew was probably from her twin brothers joke shop. Her bed had a window above it, which looked out onto the large field surrounding the Headquarters.

Draco looked at Ginny, she appeared to be exhausted. Draco moved to leave, but her hand caught his wrist. "Stay with me, please, just until I fall asleep. I'm- I'm scared."

Her voice was so quiet that Draco had to stop breathing to hear her last words. Draco nodded and sat down on the bed next to her. She lay down and he watched as she closed her eyes and, eventually, her breathing slowed. Draco reached out and brushed her red hair out of her face. Draco looked at the girl lying next to him, her face looked so peaceful when she slept. He hadn't seen her look that calm since her rape. He had known it would affect her mentally, but he hadn't been sure to what extent. He still didn't know for sure. Finally, when he thought she was asleep, Draco gently lifted himself off the bed and slunk towards the door.

*

Fifteen minutes after Draco had silently slipped out of her room, Ginny Weasley sat up in her bed, her heart pounding. She had returned to her rape in her dreams. She had felt their dirty hands touching her, violating her. She had felt Crabbe force his mouth onto hers. And she had felt the pain, tearing apart her very soul. Worst of all, there had been no Draco to save her, no mercury-eyed savior to stop the pain. Ginny curled into a ball putting her knees to her chest and burying her face in her knees. She then cried her heart out, her sobbing filled with all the pain and torment she felt.

*

Draco quietly snuck back into the kitchen, to find everyone looking at him. Apparently, they had been waiting for his return. Draco strode towards the front of the room, head held high. He cleared his throat and then decided on his course of action. He would have to ease them slowly into this. There were too many people here for him to control the crowd if he just told them the idea bluntly like he had to his team.

"The Death Eaters frequently attack innocent wizards, witches, and muggles. They frequently attack unarmed or solitary Order members, without provocation. They get away with it too. We never attack back. Why? Because they are too strong, they have too many members. We cannot possibly take them on. Yet. We need to create a team, of sorts, who will specialize in going out and finding these Death Eaters, in giving them a taste of their own medicine. Yes, I'm suggesting we stoop to their level, that we go out and kill them, but we have to. Or else they will do worse to others. I had plenty of chances to kill Ginny's rapists, before they attacked her, but I didn't. And now, it's the thing I regret most in life. We have a chance to stop them and we need to take it."

The Order started to protest, but Draco stopped them. "I've made up my mind about this, I won't back down this time. This is the right thing to do and I even have some volunteers to help start the first team."

The crowd was silent, until Dumbledore spoke up, "And who, exactly, are the wizards you have in mind for this "team" Draco?" Just as Draco had predicted.

Draco smiled, he loved being right, and startled rattling off the names,"Bill Weasley, Charlie Weasley, Fred and George Weasley, Andromeda Tonks and Remus Lupin. They, alongside me, will comprise of the first hunting party of the Order of the Phoenix. I will teach them all the things my father taught me. I will be responsible for their training and planning."

"And if your team fails?"

"It won't fail. But, if it does, you can hold me accountable."

"I see that you only listed 7 members. That's an odd number. Who is the eighth?"

Of course, Dumbledore _would_ know what I was hiding, Draco thought. "Ginny Weasley. We need to teach her how to defend herself. She needs to know all the things I am teaching her brothers, Tonks and Lupin. We can wait until she is of age, but I think it would be better if she learned them now. She could be a potential target."

Silence met his proposal, but as Draco scanned the room with his mercury eyes, he saw Mr. and Mrs. Weasley's faces looking back at him, telling him that they believed in him. He took this as acceptance of the plan. That, or they were really bad at conveying hatred with their facial expressions. Everyone else in the room had no objection to Ginny Weasley being involved, either because they had already been briefed, or because they weren't related to her enough to care.

"I will back your plan, Draco. " Draco looked across the room to see Professor McGonagall, standing. She had never been a fan of Draco, but he would take what he could get. "You have shown bravery beyond that of many Aurors and Order members. You will make a good leader, you will be most likely succeed with your plan."

One by one, Draco watched as other Order members, some he knew, most he didn't, stood and backed his plan. Draco couldn't believe this was working.

*

Draco wearily climbed the stairs leading to the upper floors. He had spent hours, sitting in the kitchen, planning what to teach his team over the next few days. Draco finally reached the third floor and turned right. His room was the third on the right. Draco dragged his exhausted body towards the bed. He realized, in a sudden moment of clarity, that he hadn't slept since the night before Ginny had been raped. It felt like it had been years.

Draco had been asleep for what felt like 5 minutes, though it was really 2 hours, when he was awoken by the sound of footsteps on the stairs. Draco grabbed his wand from under his pillow and silently slipped out of bed, across the room and stood next to the doorframe. His heart was racing; blood was pounding in his ears. As soon as his door flew open, Draco slipped behind the figure standing in the doorway and pressed his wand to their neck.

The figure instantly froze. "Chill the fuck out Draco! It's me, Fred. I ran up here to tell you that Ginny was having nightmares and no one can get her to calm down. We need your help."

Draco removed his wand from Fred's neck and watched as the redhead turned to face him. As soon as Draco confirmed that it was, in fact, Fred and not Draco's father or a Death Eater, he started walking downstairs, towards where he knew Ginny slept. Fred followed.

"Wow, I'm never coming up here in the dead of night again. You almost blew my head off, mate. What, do you sleep next to the door, with your wand in your hand?"

"Actually, Weasley, as it turns out, you aren't very quiet when running up the stairs. And I do sleep with my wand under my pillow. "

"Well, you're just going to have to give me silent lessons, like Tonks then, aren't you?"

"I guess so." Draco had reached Ginny's room; he could already tell there were many people crowded inside. Apparently, her nightmares were very loud. She had probably screamed.

Draco shoved past the people; they were all in their pajamas, wands in hands, towards Ginny's bed. Ginny was sitting on her bed, hyperventilating, tears streaming down her cheeks. When Draco reached her, he kneeled down in front of her and grabbed her face in his hands. He forced her to look into his eyes, though hers seemed to be vacant, and quietly talked to her.

"Ginny, it's me, Draco. You're not with those men. You're with me. Calm down. It's okay. You're not in Knockturn; you're not there, Ginny. You're at Headquarters with me." Draco repeated this sentence over and over to the terrorized girl.

Ginny's breathing soon slowed and she was looking back into Draco's eyes. Her sobs quieted, but they still wracked her body.

Seeing that the girl was fine and there had not been a Death Eater attack, most of the members returned to their warm beds.

Only Mr. and Mrs. Weasley remained, along with Ginny's brothers, Tonks, and Remus.

Draco slowly edged onto Ginny's bed and hugged the sobbing girl. He nodded to the remaining few, letting them know that she would be fine and he would stay there until she went to sleep.

It didn't take long for Ginny's sobs to subside, but she didn't fall asleep immediately. She wanted to know about the meeting of the Order; she had missed it after Draco had taken her upstairs.

Draco told her about the hunting party. She thought it was an excellent idea and wanted to be a part of it; she was trying to show that she was strong, but Draco wondered if her fiery spirit was still buried within her.

Draco nodded, telling her that he had reserved a spot on the team for her, once she had healed. She was still bruised and had several broken ribs. Her knuckles were on the mend, though. But, Draco knew, these were not her only injuries, these were just the easiest to identify and heal.

Eventually, Ginny fell asleep in Draco's arms. He placed her gently on her mattress and moved to leave the room, but then thought better of it. He conjured a pillow and a blanket from the hall closet and slept on the ground. He wanted to be here if Ginny had any more nightmares. It would be easier this way.

*

Draco didn't fall asleep for a very long time, his thoughts on the redhead sleeping next to him. She had changed, Draco had expected it. Ginny never smiled anymore, her warm glow was gone, her passion for life had dissipated and her fiery attitude seemed like it had been snuffed out. Draco had seen Ginny try to pretend everything was normal, he had seen it, even after only a day of observation, that Ginny was going to try to ignore her pain. Draco knew that she was scarred, that she would always be, if not physically as well, then certainly mentally and emotionally. Draco knew, from experience, that her pain would only drive her crazy.

Draco thought back to his time at the Manor. Lucius had beaten him since he was around 15. That was when Draco had first discovered that he didn't want to be like his father, he didn't want to be a Death Eater. Draco had tried to act out, but when he had realized that this only earned him pain, he had tried to please his father, to distract him. As Draco had neared manhood, though, he had realized that he hated his father. Sure, the man had taught Draco everything he knew, everything that kept him alive, but Draco still hated his father. His father had never been a father, really. Biologically, of course, Draco was practically the man's replica, but the two were so different in attitudes it was astounding; Draco didn't want his power to derive from Death Eaterhood, while Lucius reveled in it. Everything that Lucius admired and wanted, Draco despised and loathed. Soon, the pain of being abused and forced into a destiny he hated drove Draco to near insanity. He was trying to keep it bottled up inside, he was trying to be strong, but it wasn't working. Draco remembered perfectly the day he was pushed off the edge, when he was driven to the point of insanity. He had been sitting in his room, reading another muggle book, when he heard the floo alarm go off. Someone was here. Having nothing better to do, Draco closed the book and slunk out of his room, looking for the fireplace in question. When Draco found it, he was surprised to see his father talking to a lower Death Eater.

"He will be a Death Eater by the end of June, do you hear me?" Lucius' voice showed that he was talking about his son. Only Draco could evoke such anger in his ice-cold father.

"Yes, sir. I will report back to the Dark Lord at once." The poor lower Death Eater was nearly trembling in fear at Lucius' anger.

Try having that anger directed at you, dumbass, Draco though snidely. Then, reality struck. He was going to be a Death Eater in a few days. Only a few days. Draco ran up into his room and started ransacking the place. He started throwing things around, breaking everything his father had ever given him. He put all his anger into it. He was blind, he couldn't see anything, it was like his body was acting of its own accord. Draco's mind was foggy; he couldn't think straight, all he could see and think of was the date, the end of June. Draco ran to the bathroom, grabbing a razor blade and slicing his right wrist; if he had cut his left one, they would have known when they put the Death Mark on him. No, Draco wouldn't let that happen. He couldn't. Draco made his mind up while his wrist bled freely, the blood dripping down his muscular hands onto the floor. He would escape. He would run.

Draco wrapped up his wrist. It would leave a scar, he knew, but what was one more in comparison to the dozens he already bore?

*

Comments! Let me know if my plot is severly lacking or my dialogue needs some work. Or just let me know what you thought over all. Thanks to everyone who reviewed last time: **Lucygirl07, presstiss ginny, **and** darinmeg**!

Hope you liked it,

Katy


	7. Dead or Alive

I'm SO sorry about the long wait! I've been really busy with midterms! I know I said I wouldn't wait longer than a week to post and I'm super sorry! (I know, you're thinking: "Stop being so self-absorbed, no one was holding your breath for your next chapter".) Well, whether you were anxiously awaiting it or not, here is Chapter 7: Dead or Alive.

Disclaimer: JKR owns all HP character in this chapter, I'm just using them in…. unorthodox ways. Jon Bon Jovi owns the lyrics to Dead or Alive.

-Katy

*

I'm a cowboy, on a steel horse I ride

I'm wanted dead or alive

Wanted dead or alive

Sometimes I sleep, sometimes it's not for days

And the people I meet always go their separate ways

Sometimes you tell the day

By the bottle that you drink

And times when you're alone all you do is think

I walk these streets, a loaded six string on my back

I play for keeps, 'cause I might not make it back

I been everywhere, and I'm standing tall

I've seen a million faces an I've rocked them all

I'm a cowboy, on a steel horse I ride

I'm wanted dead or alive

I'm a cowboy, I got the night on my side

I'm wanted dead or alive

And I ride, dead or alive

I still drive, dead or alive

Dead or alive.

-Bon Jovi, Wanted Dead or Alive

Ginny didn't have any more nightmares that night. Draco awoke to the sound of her getting out of bed and he quickly grabbed her ankle, preventing her from stepping on him. She let out a small shriek in surprise, but quickly quieted it when she realized it was Draco who had grabbed her ankle and not a Death Eater.

"Sorry, I scared you." Draco looked up at her, his pale hair falling across his face. Though his face looked worn and tired, his eye still shone brightly. Draco cringed internally, he was going to give her a heart attack, just what she needed.

"No, its okay. Thanks for staying with me last night." Ginny said, looking down at him.

"No problem." Draco didn't want to mention how she had woken up half of the second floor with her screaming. Draco looked into the face of the redhead, noting how her eyes looked both empty and unbearably sad at the same time. He wanted to comfort her in some way, but he wasn't sure what to do. He didn't want to break her; she was already shattered.

"Let's go see what's for breakfast, okay?" Ginny said, holding out her hand to Draco.

Draco took her hand, getting to his feet.

*

The pair walked into the kitchen to find most of the Order still wasn't awake. Draco suspected that this was because of Ginny's screaming last night but didn't comment. Draco checked the clock; it was 7 in the morning. Draco noted that his team was up, he had told them to be awake, fed and clothed by 8 in the morning. They had to start practicing early.

Draco sat at the table, and looked over at Fred who was stuffing his face with bacon. Fred then swallowed and said to George, "Never try to sneak up on Draco, he has intense hearing and lightning fast reflexes."

George turned to his brother, his eyes wide in mock amazement, "Like a ninja?" he whispered.

Fred nodded solemnly.

Ginny turned to Draco, "What are they going on about?"

"Fred's just mad because I almost blew his head off after he stormed into my room last night. I should have known it wasn't my father, Fred sounded like a herd of elephants on the stairs."

Ginny gave a short giggle at this, and Draco joined her. He wasn't sure the last time he had heard her laugh, it sounded good. But he knew that she was still broken. It would take a lot more than a few laughs to put her back together.

After breakfast, Draco went up to his room and changed into some muggle clothes: another pair of jeans and a green shirt. He then brushed his teeth, grabbed a of chocolate frog, and headed back downstairs. He had informed his team to meet him out in the side yard, between the forest and the house.

When Draco was in the specified clearing, he conjured a mannequin, a jacket and 7 bells. He put the jacket on the mannequin and then cast a multiplication spell on the chocolate frog he had gotten from his room. He put one chocolate frog in each of the seven pockets of the jacket on the mannequin. He put the bells back in his pocket. He would use those later.

Draco then climbed on the lower part of the roof, over looking the clearing where they would practice and waited for his team to show up. As Draco looked out into the sky, it occurred to him that what he was doing would almost certainly get him killed. If not by a stray spell, then by Death Eaters or Lucius. As soon as Lucius figured out that his son, his pureblood heir, was training the Order of the Phoenix, a motley group of muggle and mud-blood sympathizers, that he was teaching them the tricks that Lucius had only taught Draco, Draco was a dead man. Draco knew that when his father discovered this, nothing would be able to shield him from Lucius' rage. Lucius would soon give an order for the Death Eaters under Lucius' power to find Draco and bring him back. Dead or alive.

One by one, they each showed up, except for the case of Fred and George, they showed up together, as usual.

Draco watched them until the last person, Lupin, had shown up. Draco had expected his old professor to be late, Draco had remembered the year the werewolf had taught him; the professor had been late to many classes.

Draco watched for a little longer, studying the group dynamics. He was deciding who to pair with whom when they went on missions. Then Draco heard Bill start to complain,

"Where is he? He's the group leader, he should be early."

Draco took this as his cue and quietly jumped from the roof, landing soundlessly. He then crept behind Bill Weasley and said, "I was early Bill, look, that mannequin didn't put on its own jacket. You really should check your surroundings before you criticize your leader." The look on Bill Weasley's face, a mixture of surprise, embarrassment and regret at his words, was hilarious and Draco had a hard time not bursting into laughter, instead Draco controlled his facial expressions and barely cracked a smile at Charlie.

Draco strode surely past the group and toward the mannequin. "Today, I will show you how to steal things. And, before you ask how this will help you, let me answer. What if we are ordered to steal something from a Death Eater, rather than just kill him? This technique is also useful for survival, if you run out of Galleons, you can steal always more. But, mostly, we need some muggle weapons to practice with and frankly, I don't feel like buying them. So we'll steal 'em, okay?"

Draco watched as his team nodded silently, faces determined.

"But, before we steal things, you need to learn how to walk silently. " Draco checked their shoes; they were all wearing soft footwear, which was a start. "You need to remember to always wear soft footwear, which make less noise than regular tennis shoes do. On missions, always remember to wear tight clothing. Baggy clothes will rustle and could give us away. Also, remember to breathe slowly and evenly. Everyone got this?"

Draco watched his team slow their breathing and smiled. "Good. Always make sure that, when following someone, if they step with their left foot, you step with your left as well. This will mask any noise you accidentally make. Place the heel of you foot down first." Draco demonstrated this, lowering his right foot to the ground exaggeratingly slow. "If you are moving fast, bend your knees and leap quietly from place to place. When you're leaping, try to land on the balls of your feet." Draco jumped in the air, demonstrating how he could jump high and still land silently. "But, walking backwards can be an issue. Hopefully you don't have to do this, but I'll teach it to you anyway: When walking backwards, put the ball of your foot down first and then gently ease the heel down." Draco demonstrated this as well and turned to see all six of his teammates practicing this.

"Everyone got it?" Draco asked

Draco watched as they all slowly nodded and then he turned around and closed his eyes.

"Okay then. Now, I want you each to try to sneak up on me, separately."

Draco's request was met with silence and then he heard what he was waiting for: a crunch. Draco swung around, pointing his wand at Fred's face.

"Nice try, next!"

This continued for around three hours, until every single one of them had mastered the art of walking silently, even Tonks. By that time, it was around 10:30 in the morning and the Order had awoken. Draco looked around to see Ginny watching them; she was sitting about 20 feet away. Draco smiled and waved.

"Okay, now it is time to learn how to steal things." Draco smiled when he saw the mischievous expressions on the Weasley twins' faces.

Draco pointed towards the mannequin, "That mannequin has a jacket with seven pockets on it. In each pocket is a chocolate frog. " Draco opened the mannequins jacket to show them where the pockets were. "You each need to steal a chocolate frog from a pocket, while walking by. I'll demonstrate first."

Draco nonchalantly walked past the dummy, not even appearing to touch it, never slowing his pace; the only clue that he had taken something from the dummy was the slight movement of the jacket. Draco turned towards the six people gathered there and held up his chocolate frog.

Bill, Charlie, Tonks, Lupin, Fred, and George stared at Draco in amazement.

"Bill, you're up first. All you have to do is reach in there while you're walking by and grab it. Remember, keep your pace even and don't stop."

Bill walked towards the mannequin, reaching into the pocket and pulling out the frog. His pace never slowed, but the problem was that Draco could tell that Bill had stolen something. It hadn't looked like Bill had merely brushed the mannequin. Other than that, the young man was a natural.

The day slowly progressed and the team made steady progress. The Weasley twins turned out to be terrific at stealing, they had probably had some practice in their Hogwarts days. At lunchtime, Mrs. Weasley came out and brought some sandwiches and lemonade out to the team, Ginny couldn't carry the tray, as her ribs were still bruised. They all sat down to eat, Charlie, Bill, Remus and Tonks discussing different Quidditch teams, Fred and George looking like they were planning something that could likely get them in trouble. Draco turned to Ginny. When he saw her facial expression, his heart felt like it had cracked in two. Ginny's face had crumpled into an expression of such sorrow, it was surprising that the girl didn't break into sobs. Draco didn't try to comfort her, he knew if he did, the others would notice and that was the last thing she wanted. He would confront her about it later.

During that break, Charlie left to go to the bathroom. As soon as he was gone, Draco turned to Tonks and said, "This is your chance. Go stand by the door and wait for Charlie to come out, then follow him until he sits down, see if he notices you."

Tonks quickly followed his instructions. Draco was pleasantly surprised when Charlie did not notice the no longer clumsy girl. Draco was a better teacher than he thought.

The sun had fallen before Draco dismissed his team. When he did, he told them to be ready and at the same place the next morning at 9 a.m. After a couple more days, Draco imagined they would be able to go steal from the muggle world. What the team didn't know was that that would be a test of sorts, to see if the team could work well together or not. Draco waited until all of the members had left and then quickly walked over to where Ginny sat.

Draco laid down in the grass next to her, folding his arms behind his head. He looked up at the sky; the night was a clear one, the stars shone brightly. They sat in quiet until Ginny broke the silence,

"You did really well today. I didn't know you knew how to do so many illegal activities."

Draco smirked, he could easily make a sexual innuendo out of that, but he let it slide, "Thanks. It wasn't as hard as I thought it would be, you know? I thought teaching them would have a lot of pressure, but it didn't. I was surprised." Draco looked up at Ginny, her hair contrasted beautifully with the dark sky and bright stars above her head; Draco couldn't help noticing that her face seemed to be healing well, the bruises had turned a greenish-yellow color. Of course, her ribs were still hurt, but in time, they would heal. Draco sighed; her body would heal well, eventually. It was her mind and soul he was worried about. Would they be as resilient?

"Where did you learn to do all that stuff?" Ginny asked, curiosity evident in her voice.

"My father taught me." Draco chuckled darkly.

The two stared up at the stars for a little while longer until Draco got up and reached his hand out to Ginny, "Come on, we should get to bed, it's been a long day."

Ginny took it, nodding.

The two walked up to Ginny's room in silence, the entire way Draco's thoughts were focused on the girl standing next to him. She had changed a lot since the rape, two days ago. Draco had noticed that she didn't smile as often. The girl used to be warm, light, now she was a shell at times. When she thought Draco and the others weren't looking, Draco could sometimes see the pain, evident in her eyes. He knew that she wished he had gotten there sooner, he knew that he couldn't do anything to relieve her pain except give her time. But, after she had had time, Draco would show her how to defend herself. Draco truly believed that this was the key element to fully healing the girl's broken mind and soul. Providing closure of some sort.

They had reached the second floor, where Draco made sure she got to her room safely and then turned to climb to the next level. Draco continued walking up the stairs to his room. Suddenly a thought struck him.

He was becoming his father. He was teaching the team exactly what his father had taught him. He was testing them like his father had tested Draco.

No, Draco. There are two differences between you and your father. Your father was brutal when he taught you. He used to beat you if you got it wrong, that's why you were always trying so hard to do it right the first time. You showed patience to the team today. Patience you hadn't known you had.

The other difference is that you don't carry around that ridiculous pimp cane. Draco collapsed on the bed and smiled to himself, before drifting off into a deep, dreamless sleep, the stars outside his window making his hair appear silver.

*

Thank you, thank you, thank you to all who reviewed last chapter! As usual, I LOVE reviews, because they give me a reason to keep writing, and I like to know what I'm doing right and wrong. Chapter 8 is finished, but I don't want to post it until I finish chapter 9. I like having a head start!

Later, but not as late as this chapter,

-Katy


	8. Time Doesn't Heal

Hello all. I'm afraid that in this chapter, I may have rushed things a bit, but oh well, it's too late.

Disclaimer: JKR owns all characters. Lyrics are owned by the Dixie Chicks, whose song I felt suited this chapter.

-Katy.

*

Forgive, sounds good 

Forget, I'm not sure I could 

They say time heals everything 

But I'm still waiting  

I'm through with doubt 

There's nothing left for me to figure out 

I've paid a price 

And I'll keep paying  

I'm not ready to make nice 

I'm not ready to back down 

I'm still mad as hell and I don't have time 

To go round and round and round

-Dixie Chicks, Not Ready To Make Nice

*

Ginny watched as the days passed by. She watched as Draco taught his team how to pick locks and set traps, how to walk silently and to steal. She watched as her reflection looked better everyday, but her eyes remained sad.

Though she was grateful that Draco had saved her, some selfish part of her, buried deep within the dungeons of her soul, wished that he had saved her sooner.

Ginny knew that this wasn't the way things were meant to be. She was supposed to fall in love with a boy, they were supposed to talk a lot about it and then she was supposed to lose her virginity, to someone she loved. But it had been stolen, forcibly taken, by two Death Eaters, the people she hated most.

Ginny was sure that the days were clearly defined for Draco, but for Ginny they all blurred together. It was like she was in a stupor, a daze, for three entire weeks. She was constantly waking up to see Draco's sleeping face, walking downstairs, watching her brothers and Tonks and Remus learn knew skills, going to bed, having nightmares, being awoken by Draco's calming voice, being rocked back to sleep, and waking up and starting the day again. It seemed like an endless cycle and Ginny couldn't wait until she was allowed to train with them. She wanted to learn to protect herself, how to defend herself better, how to survive without relying on anyone else.

But, a few moments did stick out from the rest: Draco levitating an extra mattress into her room, explaining that he would be sleeping in her room from then on, in case she had more nightmares. Ginny remembered distinctly that she suddenly felt safer. Ginny remembered sitting on the ground, watching him demonstrate how to pick a lock, when she noticed that her chest no longer ached with the pain of her broken ribs. Ginny remembered when Draco had tried to help her heal, and he had. That was the day that Ginny woke up from her daze. And, most of all, Ginny remembered the time when she took a shower and didn't bawl because of what had happened. She had been using these spare moments, when the running water was loud enough to block out her sobs and the steam naturally made her eyes red, to cry her heart out. That night, when Ginny stepped into the shower, she hadn't immediately crawled onto the floor and curled into a ball, her tears mixing with the water from the showerhead until she didn't know which was which. Instead, that night, Ginny had stood there for a couple of minutes, just letting the water run over her body, until the tears came. But this time, they were different. They were less hopeless; they were more out of pain she felt in her heart and less out of despair. She was trying to be strong for her mother, her brothers and the Order, but sometimes it became too hard. The one person she didn't have to be strong for was Draco, and he constantly reminded her of this.

*

Draco sat patiently on the roof, waiting for his team to appear. They were getting better, becoming more observant. Today was the last test. He had created several traps that they had to detect, avoid, and destroy, all silently. Then they would each pick a lock, in under 20 seconds and steal something from the mannequin. What the team was not aware of was that the mannequin would have a bell on each pocket. In order for his team to pass, they had to remove the item in the pocket. Silently.

Draco thought about the past few days. It had only been a three weeks since his group's first training session. They were progressing extraordinarily fast. Ginny had been raped three weeks and two days ago. It felt like just yesterday, Draco was running down the seemingly endless streets, searching for the woman he didn't know. Draco sometimes closed his eyes and returned there. He was having nightmares as well, of his father and Death Eaters and Voldemort, of endless alleyways and screams piercing the night, but he didn't let on. He knew Ginny had enough to handle.

Two weeks ago, he had been woken up for the fifth night in a row, to the sound of footsteps slamming on the stairs. Though Draco had known it was probably a Weasley, Draco had jumped out of bed and hidden behind the door anyway, thinking that eventually they would run out of Weasley's to send after him. He had noted that once a Weasley felt his wand at their neck, they never returned to wake him again.

As Draco had walked down the stairs, he had seen irritated, not worried, faces. Most of the Order members were becoming pissed at Ginny's recurring nightmares.

Have some compassion, Draco thought sharply.

After Draco had calmed Ginny down and she was crying softly in his arms, he had looked up to see Mr. Weasley coming towards him determinedly.

"Draco, I'm afraid I have to ask if you would share a room with Ginny? You're much too far away, if she is going to have these nightmares every night."

Draco nodded silently, he couldn't help noting that Arthur Weasley looked worn as well, though the man usually looked full of energy. Draco knew they wanted him to move into her room so that maybe he could stop the nightmares before she woke the entire house. Draco seemed the only one who did not become irritated with the recurring nightmares and continual screaming. He thought this was probably because he was the one who had been there, he had seen what had happened, and he too was suffering from nightmares.

So, Draco had walked back up to his room early in the morning and brought his mattress down, dragging it into the room as a sleepy Ginny looked up at him.

"You know, if you wanted me in your room, all you had to do was ask." Draco said, teasing her. Belatedly, he wondered if she were ready for sexual innuendos, but decided that it was a little late for that.

Ginny gave a smile, "What are you talking about?" Draco took her reaction as a good sign; if he could get her to laugh, maybe she would mend. Eventually.

"I'm moving in with you, roomie. I decided that I need to be closer to you, I get tired of walking down those stairs every night and I think they've run out of people willing to go up there to wake me up." Draco grinned, he couldn't help finding that part a bit funny.

Ginny grinned back at him, recalling some of the stories she had heard about Draco from her brothers, about him always being ready to fight and attack, even in the dead of night. She hadn't been present most of the time for the past three weeks, but she had heard the stories. Ginny was glad he would be staying in her room, the handsome boy made her feel safer.

Draco sighed, Ginny was making steady progress; her face was returning to its normal coloring, she didn't seem to be in as much pain from her ribs anymore, her recovery was steady. Yesterday, Draco had handed her a lock and taught her how to pick it, so that she would have something to do and so she could learn and wouldn't be as behind.

Even though her body was healing steadily, Draco knew Ginny would take a long time before her mind and soul were back to normal. Ginny proved this one night when she woke him up with her nightmares. Again.

*

Ginny was with _them_ again. She could hear their words in her ear, saying dirty things. She screamed, but no one heard her. She was alone, in a dark alley, with two men invading her body. She felt her body and mind tearing into pieces, once again. Ginny couldn't find her way out of the dream; it was more real than reality. This was reality. She could feel her voice going raw from all the screaming. Screaming which would reach no one's ears but her own.

And then, Ginny was being shaken awake. Her chocolate eyes flew open and focused onto Draco's mercury ones. She was safe. But, Ginny knew that the nightmares were getting worse over time. And Draco did as well. Ginny could see that he knew her mind was deteriorating.

Ginny collapsed into Draco's strong arms, his muscular hands holding her to him, her head on his athletic chest.

"Ginny, you need to let it all out. This pain will drive you to the point of insanity." Draco whispered into her ear.

Ginny knew he was right, but she couldn't let herself be that vulnerable. Ginny didn't want to be helpless anymore. Especially here, in this world, she was already helpless in her dreams.

"Time is supposed to heal everything, you know, but it isn't true. Sometimes you have to do your own healing." Draco murmured into her ear. Ginny couldn't help noticing that he sounded like he spoke from personal experience.

"Ginny, if you don't try to heal yourself, you could be waiting forever. Don't you want to be whole again?" Draco was now truly worried. It didn't seem like she wanted to be healed. She seemed to be content with living like she was: shattered.

Ginny met his questions with silence. Of course she wanted to be better. She wanted to be able to act as if none of this had happened, that was what she was trying to do, but she couldn't, Draco wouldn't let her. She didn't want to face her demons; she didn't want to face the truth. In order to heal, Draco would make her face it. Ginny wasn't sure if she was ready for that or not. She wasn't sure if she wanted to do that, or stay in her own world.

Draco looked down at the little red head. He could see her mind working; she was trying to decide what she wanted. He noticed that the girl had lost most of her fire. She used to be fiery, like her hair. But now, it was like the inferno had been doused with water. The old Ginny would have immediately responded with a defiant yes. The old Ginny wouldn't act this broken.

Ginny looked up at Draco, her brown eyes, once warm and full of life, meeting his mercury ones, full of sadness. Ginny stared at Draco's eyes for a long moment before whispering,

"I want to be able to act like this never happened. But you won't let me."

"Of course I wont let you Ginny. Acting like everything is okay while your heart is tearing itself to pieces is no way to heal. You won't be able to get better if you do that. You're only on your way to self-destruction."

Ginny was quiet for a long time, until she softly spoke, "It's my fault. All of it. I shouldn't have run away. I should have headed home to the Order, but instead I ran. The Order doesn't run. I shouldn't have either. I shouldn't have gone all the way to Diagon. I shouldn't have walked so far, I should have been more aware of my surroundings. And I should have known how to defend myself. I should have tried harder. I should have fought. I should have run farther. I should have "

Draco couldn't take it any longer. He had wanted to let her get it off her chest, but it was too much. How could she beat herself up about it? "No, Ginny. It isn't your fault. It is many people's faults. The Death Eaters for their actions, it's their fault for doing what they did to you, for deriving pleasure from pain. Harry's fault for leaving you out in the woods, with your broken heart. It's the Orders fault for not putting up a goddamned fence. It's the person who designed Diagon Alley's fault, for making it so confusing. It's my fault for not killing those bastards sooner. It's my fault for not getting there sooner. But it's not your fault. It's never your fault. There is no way you could have been prepared for that Ginny. No one could have foreseen these events. Everyone but you is responsible. You don't need to be like the Order yet, you haven't been recruited. They don't expect you to be strong. They expect you to act like a teenage girl, and that's what you did. But you were also very smart. Don't you remember? You sent off a flare. You stunned a Death Eater. That flare is what saved you, Gin. I don't think many people would have thought of that. I know I wouldn't have." The amount of emotion evident in Draco's voice surprised both of them.

"You would have made it out, though. You wouldn't have let yourself get raped." Her voice was still as heartbroken and crushed as ever.

"You didn't let yourself do anything. They forced you Ginny. They were two huge men against one woman. How fair are those odds?"

"But, you killed them Draco. I should have done that."

"Ginny, have you listened to anything I've ever said? I was trained to kill. You couldn't have done it; it takes a lot of time to be able to kill. You wouldn't have been able to do it, I've been killing for years and it's still hard for me to take a life. Ginny, you're so pure, so kind and genuine; you wouldn't have been able to. You have to be evil to cast a killing curse. Or quite inventive to find another spell to kill with."

"Draco, you used the Killing Curse. And you're not evil." Ginny's voice seemed to get a little stronger. She sounded so sure on that point.

"Never thought I'd hear those words come from a Gryffindor's mouth." Draco said, smirking. "In that moment, Ginny, when I saw that man on top of you, I was so consumed by hatred that I became evil."

"Draco... I'm not pure. You called me pure. I'm dirty, filthy. I'm not pure, not anymore." Ginny's voice was sad again.

Draco was enraged by her words. "Ginny, no matter what those men did, you will always be the most pure person I've ever met. What those men did was filthy. They were filthy. But you will never be filthy or dirty by any means."

"Then why do I feel so dirty? I feel like I'll never be clean again."

"I think it's your guilt. You feel guilty because you think you could have prevented what happened. But listen, you couldn't have prevented it. You tried to, I know, you gave it your all, and it wasn't enough. There were plenty of people who could have prevented it, Harry, the Death Eaters, me, but you were not one of them." Draco's voice was filled with emotion.

Ginny looked into his eyes, they were filled with sorrow and anger and an emotion that Ginny couldn't name. Ginny had always seen his eyes cold and hard, like stone, but after he had saved her, she saw that they had become mercury, moving, warm, almost like liquid. As soon as Ginny had hardened, it seemed as if Draco had softened.

"I don't want to be helpless anymore."

Draco internally breathed a sigh of relief. Her voice was filled with determination, what Draco had been waiting for, what he had been trying to evoke. He was happy to note that she did not deny that he should have gotten there sooner, they both wished he could have, but they both knew he couldn't have. Draco had been waiting for her to become determined, to finally reach past the stage of sorrow and into the stage of resolve. Draco wasn't sure whether these were the designated stages of grief, but he knew they were Ginny Weasley's stages and he could work with that.

*

Draco stared out at the fields and the forest beyond them, the sun was getting higher in the sky; his team should be there soon. Ginny was in the kitchen, helping her mother clean up. Draco noted with satisfaction that the night she had said she no longer wanted to be helpless had been a turning point for the girl. They both knew that she had a long way to go, but being determined to get on with her life and not letting the days pass by in a stupor was a start.

Draco pondered over the traps he had set: He had put pressure point all around the yard, which would cause ropes to grab at ankles, the ground to swallow the person who triggered it, and even, in what Draco thought of as a stroke of true genius, for burning arrows to be shot at the victim. Draco just hoped that whoever triggered that one was flexible and fast on his or her feet. The traps could be identified by a single blue blade of grass, and hopefully his team would quickly spot the anomaly.

As Draco continued to ponder whether or not his team was fully prepared for his test, the members started to arrive. Well, its too late to turn back now, I guess, Draco thought. Draco silently jumped from the roof, noting with satisfaction that all of his teammates were looking at him, they had become more observant over the last few weeks.

"Today, you have your first test. Separately, you will have to identify, avoid, possibly dodge, and destroy. You will then pick several locks, all under 20 seconds, and steal something from one of the mannequin's pockets. And all of it will be done silently. If anyone fails to complete the test, we will continue training until I think all of you are ready for our first mission. Now, who wants to go first?" Draco smirked when he realized no one was going to volunteer. He really didn't think the task was that daunting, it was the same course he had completed under the training of his father. When he was 10.

"First one to complete it gets the day off." Draco said, tempting them. He knew they all wanted a break off, Draco had been training them, non-stop from 9 in the morning until night fell, everyday for the past 3 weeks. Draco smiled when he saw the Weasley twins' hands fly into the air.

"Okay, Fred, you go first, then George after him." Draco said, pointing to each of the twins with his wand.

"I'm not George, I'm Fred." One of the redheaded twins said.

"You really expect me to believe that? Fred cringed when he saw my wand pointed at him, you have never come to wake me up in the middle of the night, and so you didn't. Now go sit in the kitchen with the rest of the team." Draco smiled, he loved it when people tried to trick him, thought it was hilarious.

Draco watched as each of his team members walked towards the front of the house. He didn't want any of them knowing where he had set his traps. He then climbed up onto the roof and gave Fred the signal to go ahead.

Draco sat on the roof, watching as Fred tried to dodge his flaming arrows. Fred had opted for the Aguamenti spell, getting rid of the flame part, but not the arrows, which were flying towards the young man. Fred then hit the ground, which Draco decided could work in a real situation. It was then that Draco saw that Fred had noticed the blue grass. He watched as understanding and comprehension dawned on the young man's face. Draco smiled to himself, he had taught Fred to be observant.

Fred made it to the locks on the other end of the field of traps without incident. He then grabbed a paperclip from his sock; Draco had strongly advised the team keep one on them at all times, and proceeded to pick each of the five locks, all in under 20 seconds, as Draco had specified. Fred then walked over to the mannequin, passed it, and snatched something out of the pocket. Draco waited for the ringing of the bell, but it never came. When Fred turned around, he had the bell and the chocolate frog in his hand.

"So, did I pass?" Fred asked, smiling. He knew he had, Draco could see from the confident smile on his face.

"I believe so. Cutting the bell off the mannequin was clever thinking, looks like you found your way around the Seven Bells. It wasn't what I had expected, but it's what I did when I took the test." Draco smiled. "You get your day off, go enjoy it. And meet me back here at 9 tomorrow morning."

Fred mock-saluted Draco and proceeded to walk off into the house.

Draco climbed back onto the roof. It was George's turn.

*

At the end of the day, none of his students had failed. Draco had expected this; he knew that the first to go would tell the others of the seven bells. This is what he had wanted; it was his trick question, of sorts. The most important element of a team was there ability to communicate and work together. And they had done beautifully.

Draco jumped off the roof for the last time, to inform Lupin that he had passed as well. Lupin had taken one look at the grass and noticed the anomaly, Draco had been impressed.

"Lupin, you passed as well. Meet here at 9, tomorrow morning. You have the rest of the day off." Draco said, shaking the man's hand.

"I never thought I'd see the day I was tested by one of my students. You're a magnificent teacher, Draco." Without another word, Lupin turned and walked off.

Draco turned towards the house to see Ginny. She was sitting on the grass, watching the exchange. Draco swaggered towards her and pulled her to her feet, they walked towards the kitchen. It was a little past lunchtime and neither of them had eaten.

When they got in the kitchen, they realized it was unoccupied. Draco grabbed a few pieces of bread and some sandwich supplies. Draco had never coked in his life before joining the Order, but he had quickly learned the basics to a good sandwich.

Draco made a turkey and lettuce sandwich for himself and a peanut butter and jelly one for Ginny, he had learned from observation that it was her favorite. They sat on the counter in the kitchen, neglecting the seats, and ate their sandwiches.

"What do you want to do on our day off, Ginny?" Draco finally broke the silence. He hadn't thought past all of his team members passing the test; he hadn't been sure if they would all pass.

"Can you try to catch me up with the rest of the members? I want to learn what they did today." Ginny said, she sounded very sure.

"Okay, but you probably won't be able to go steal from muggle London with us in the next few days. I want you to be prepared before you go out onto any missions."

Ginny nodded silently. After they had finished their sandwiches, Draco jumped off of the counter, quickly followed by Ginny. Draco performed a quick scourgify on the plates and put them up. Ginny was already headed outside, she seemed eager to learn, eager to prove that she wasn't powerless.

Draco smiled to himself, it seemed that she would eventually recover fully. Her ribs had fully healed this week, but Draco knew that even though she was trying to prove herself, she was still hurt inside. Ginny still woke up with nightmares, and Draco sometimes thought she cried when alone, though he had no evidence.

*

Once outside, Draco reviewed with Ginny how to pick a lock; she was a fast learned and remembered how to from the day he had showed her. They quickly moved on to the mannequin. Draco demonstrated how to properly pickpockets. Ginny had a little difficulty with this, but she seemed to have inherited some of the Weasley talent for stealing. At first, Ginny had to stop and grab it out of the pocket, but when Draco showed her how to look inside the mannequin's jacket when it was blown open by sudden gusts of wind, to spot where the pockets were, Ginny showed that she was, in fact, the best pick pocket of the Weasley family. She even competed with Draco's ability.

Draco then demonstrated how to walk silently in the grass, by the time he had shown her this it was around 3 in the afternoon and the sun was shining brightly. Ginny was also very good at this, but Draco thought it was probably because she didn't weigh much. It took Ginny around 5 tries to be able to sneak up on Draco, but she managed it.

Draco's entire body froze when he felt her wand tip on the back of his neck. None of the others had been able to get that close without him hearing them. Most of them had managed to get within 5 feet, which Draco had thought was good enough, but Draco had had no idea Ginny was even that close to him. Ginny was on an entirely different level than the other members of Draco's team. She was nearly at Draco's level.

At around 4, Draco mentioned that they take a break, but Ginny insisted they keep going. Draco decided to stop teaching and let her rest for a few minutes anyway; he didn't want her to collapse.

Draco then taught her about identifying traps. Magical traps always left some sort of mark. He mentioned how his traps from earlier this morning were marked by a single blue blade of grass, how many times the markers may be more obvious than that, but sometimes they may not.

Draco reviewed the spells that would be good for destroying traps: aguamenti, finite incantatum, which would stop any spells flying towards her, flipendo, which would knock any items backwards, impedimenta, which would slow any flying items, and wingardium leviosa.

Draco then started to construct a trap for her. The marker would make her vision go red before she stepped on it, and then she would have to destroy it. Draco hadn't created anything too dangerous, the trap would only shoot large plates at her, which she would have to destroy before they hit her. He was going considerably easy on her; the team had had to dodge shards of glass their first time. Draco cringed, thinking of the nasty wound Charlie had sustained. After Draco was done constructing his traps, he turned back to Ginny. He searched her face for any signs of doubt, but he saw none.

Ginny silently walked towards the field, where she knew the trap would be. Draco saw her pause, before she put her foot down on the trigger. She had already detected the marker.

As soon as Ginny put her foot down, she jumped to the left, as her feet landed silently, her eyes focused on the plates flying towards her. Ginny fired a confringo at it, obliterating the plate, then fired flipendo at the rest, sending them flying towards the side of the house. And Draco. Draco dodged out of the way and fired the reducto spell at the plates, obliterating all of them with a single spell. Draco mentally smacked his forehead, he had forgotten about confringo.

"Ginny, you're great at this! You're a natural!" Draco exclaimed, he was extremely happy she was so good, and learned so quickly, he would be able to teach her many defensive spells.

"I think watching the group for so many weeks helped." Ginny said, being modest.

"Whatever it was, you're nearly to my level." Draco said honestly, he also noted that she hadn't seemed to have thought about the rape all day. He would continue to train her.

*

At the end of the day, Ginny and Draco had a duel, Draco had decided that he wanted to see how well she could protect herself, and he wanted to see how good of a witch she was.

She was very good. Draco sent a petrificus totalus at the young witch, which she dodged and launched a bunch of birds at Draco with the avis spell. Draco, dodged behind the side of the house and launched the confundus charm at the birds, thoroughly confusing them from their quest to tear Draco's flesh apart. Draco looked around and saw that many Order members had gathered to watch the two battle.

Draco leaped out from behind the house, ducking into a roll and firing the diffindo spell at Ginny. Diffindo was meant to split the opponents seams open, but by now, Draco was just hoping to hit Ginny with a spell. They had been dueling for around an hour and a half and neither of them had come close to hitting the other. Draco ducked behind the house again, pressing his back to it and sliding to the floor. His chest was heaving, this was easily the hardest duel he'd ever engaged in. When dueling his father, it had always been quick and painful. His father had always won within twenty minutes, except for the night that Draco had run away, in which case Draco had won. But when Draco had runaway, even that duel had only lasted around 3 minutes.

And then Draco heard something: a crunch. She was close. Draco leapt up and quickly climbed onto the roof. He could see her from his vantage point, her red hair glowing in the fading light. She was rounding the corner of the house. Right as she did, Draco fired the spell at her.

And it hit her! The redhead stiffened and collapsed to the ground. Draco jumped from the roof and quickly cast the enervate spell at her, undoing the stunning spell. Draco helped her up and they turned to see most of the Order clapping. Draco looked at Ginny, grabbed her hand and they bowed in unison, like they were actors.

The sun had set, and Ginny and Draco walked inside, laughing and joking around.

They quickly had some of the food that was left over from dinner, as they had missed dinner while dueling. Draco and Ginny quickly headed upstairs, they were both exhausted. They each collapsed onto their beds and fell asleep immediately, without changing into their pajamas.

That was the first night in more than three weeks that neither of the two woke up with their hearts pounding because of nightmares.

*

Thank you to all who reviewed Chapter 7: **Eveil Woman, Maggie 1618, and IzzieSD!**

**IzzieSD: **Don't worry about your grammar/English, I was quite impressed to learn that it wasn't your first language! And to think you'd never taken classes, that's amazing!

But anywho, review!! And I am so excited for Chapter 9, it has turned out really well. Get ready for some action!

-Katy


	9. On The Edge of Desire

Sorry I haven't updated in a few days! I've been stuck in this hell hole called Duluth, GA and it seems that they have never heard of a proper Internet connection. Its ridiculous. I was able to connect with my phone and check my email, but for some reason it wouldn't connect with my computer. I just about killed someone out of frustration. But, on the bright side, I spent forever finding a song that would fit the chapter and this one is PERFECT. It sometimes suprises me how perfectly the songs can fit, as I never pick them before I write the chapters. So anyway, heres the chapter.

Disclaimer: JKR owns all, but the plot. Lyrics belong to John Mayer.

-Katy.

Young and full of running, tell me where has that taken

me?

Just a great figure eight or a tiny infinity?

Love is really nothing but a dream that keeps waking me,

For all of my trying we still end up dying, how can it

be?

Don't say a word just come over and lie here with me,

'Cause I'm just about to set fire to everything I see,

I want you so bad, I'll go back on the things I believed,

There I just said it, I'm scared you'll forget about me.

So young and full of running, all the way to the edge of

desire,

Steady my breathing, silently pleading, I have to have

you now,

Wired and I'm tired, think I'll sleep in my clothes on

the floor,

Maybe this mattress will spin on it's axis and find me on

yours.

-John Mayer, Edge of Desire

***

Draco awoke to the feeling of the sun on his face. He smiled, keeping his eyes closed. He hadn't had any nightmares last night, and apparently, neither had Ginny. He would have known if she had.

Draco kept his eyes closed and thought back to his dream. It had been the happiest one he'd had in months, possibly years. But it had been simple. It had been of a color, just a color. Red. It hadn't been the blood red that had haunted his dreams for so many years. No, it hadn't been the color that reminded him of Death Eaters and the Dark Lord and Lucius. It had been a red that reminded him of happier times, of a new life. It had been a fiery red. The color of Ginny's hair.

Draco had been having dreams of Ginny's hair color for the past two weeks. He would have his nightmares of running down long alleys, which lead to nowhere, with Voldemort behind him and Lucius next to him, chasing him. And there was always the screaming, always the screaming, Ginny's horrible screams in the background. And then Draco was awake, jumping off his bed and shaking Ginny awake. He then rocked her to sleep and soon fell asleep after her, dreaming of her hair.

It occurred to Draco that this was his subconscious telling him he loved her. He pushed those thoughts aside. No, he couldn't be in love with her. He didn't love her. He wasn't capable of love. He was ice, glacial. He didn't have the ability to love, to experience those warm, fuzzy feeling that had been described to him so many times in the muggle books. Draco had long accepted that people like him− cold, icy, masked− weren't supposed to fall in love. But, deep down, Draco knew he was lying to himself. This was one of the first times in his life that Draco truly despised being so intuitive. It prevented him from lying to himself.

Great, just what she needs, Draco thought. To have an ex-Death Eater affiliate in love with her.

*

Draco finally opened his eyes. He turned his head towards Ginny's bed. And then he saw it. The red, the beautiful red that frequented his dreams. Ginny shifted in her sleep and Draco looked at her face. She looked so peaceful. Her mouth was slightly parted, her pink lips soft. Her eyelashes, which were naturally long, were nearly brushing against her cheeks and she had a few freckles painted on the bridge of her nose from the recent days in the sun. And her red hair was spilling over her face.

Draco quietly slipped out of bed, turning towards the door. Suddenly, before he knew what he was doing, Draco was standing next to Ginny's bed. Draco reached down and brushed the hair out of her face before slinking out of the room. He would let her sleep in; it was early, around 6 in the morning, although the sun was up. Draco wandered down the stairs and eventually found himself standing outside. It was a bit chilly, but Draco kept walking, getting some fresh air. Draco climbed onto the roof and lay down.

Draco wondered to himself if it would be a good idea to let Ginny on the team. Would it really help or could it possibly traumatize her further? What would he do if she got hurt again? But Draco couldn't think of any other way to provide some closure for the poor girl. He had already killed her Death Eaters, and Draco knew that was the only thing that helped her sleep at all, no matter how many nightmares she had. Draco knew that if he had failed to kill those bastards, she wouldn't have ever felt safe again until she saw them dead with her own eyes. Draco had thought about her situation more in the last month than he had ever thought about anything. More than he had thought about his loathing of his father and the Death Eater society he was raised in. More than he had thought about all the pain he had experienced at Lucius' hand. Draco had come to the same conclusion over and over again: that the only way to provide closure to this girl was to let her on the team. Hopefully facing her worst fears and watching them die− which they would die, Draco would make sure of it− would help her heal a little bit more. Draco had analyzed her personality and come to the startling conclusion that she was a lot like him. Ginny was a bit less cynical and jaded, not so much as intuitive, and a hell of a lot more warm than Draco, but they both had a fighting spirit. Ginny's soul was fiery, while Draco's was glacial. And they both had a taste for revenge.

*

Draco continued to lie on the roof as the sun rose higher into the sky. If only his father could see him now: A member of the Order, using the skills Lucius had given him to help undermine the framework of the Death Eaters, in love with Ginny Weasley. Draco flinched a bit internally at the last, unexpected thought. He wasn't sure how he felt about being in love with Ginny. He knew he couldn't tell Ginny how he felt; she would most likely run; people like him always would when confronted with love. Until she loved him back, Draco could only try to make sure she was healing and happy. Draco sighed and threw an arm over his eyes. He knew he could hide his emotions, it was what the Malfoy family mask was for, but he wasn't sure how long he could ignore them before he went insane. Again.

*

Ginny awoke to silence. She immediately noticed that she couldn't hear Draco's breathing next to her. His breathing had become a comfort in the past month. It had become something she needed as much as air.

Ginny's eyes snapped open; as she had thought, Draco wasn't in the room. This was a new experience to Ginny. Almost every morning for the past month she had awoken to see the light reflecting off of his pale blond hair, his arm thrown haphazardly over his face, half his lean, muscular body dangling off the bed.

Suddenly, Ginny wondered if Draco had left the Order, left this life, left _her_. Ginny felt panic wash over her unexpectedly. Would he really leave her? With all these people? He was the only one who had seen that she was drowning, in both guilt and pain, the only one who had noticed, the only one who had helped her resurface to reality. Ginny couldn't survive knowing he wasn't going to be there, to help her. To save her.

Ginny scrambled out of bed and flew down the stairs, keeping her eyes open for the sight of sun sparkling off pale blond hair. As Ginny ran down the stairs, memories of Harry, Ron, and Hermione's faces flew before her eyes. Ginny immediately ran to the kitchen; it was where Draco spent most of his time, as most boys do. Ginny ran into the room, her red hair flying into her face, she was beginning to panic now. He couldn't leave her.

Ginny glanced around the kitchen, only registering that he wasn't there, before flying back into the hall and out the front door. There was only one other place he could be: the roof. Ginny ran around to the side of the house and caught a flash of silver out of her periphery. Ginny knew that there was only one thing around the Order Headquarters that was silver. Draco.

Ginny stopped dead in her tracks and her heart started to slow. She hadn't even been aware that her heart had been pounding against her ribcage.

Ginny breathed a sigh of relief; she had found him, he hadn't left her. Ginny herself wasn't sure why she had reacted the way she had. She knew she shouldn't care, shouldn't have panicked at the thought of his absence, but she had. She hadn't been able to accept life without him, without the man who had saved her, more than once.

Ginny walked over to the side of the house and climbed up the lattice, noticing for the first time that in her panic she hadn't even bothered to slip on a pair of shoes.

*

Draco wondered idly to himself, now that he could no longer deny that he was, in fact, in love with Ginny Weasley, what he would do for the rest of his life. He obviously couldn't leave her. Draco had never experienced love, and now that he was, he wasn't going to leave it. But could he simply sit still at the Order Headquarters for the rest of his life? No, he couldn't. They'd have to put him on many missions. Draco had always been restless, never content to sit around and wait for things to happen. He went looking for trouble, as he had demonstrated at Hogwarts many times, especially where Potter was involved.

Potter. Draco had thought about the Golden Boy many times in the last month. Draco held Potter partly responsible for Ginny's rape. If it hadn't been for Harry's lack of manners, Ginny wouldn't have wandered off into Diagon Alley. But, Draco knew, that Harry wasn't directly responsible. It hadn't been Harry who raped Ginny. No, Harry had made a stupid mistake, but he hadn't caused what had happened. But, still, Draco couldn't help feel a welling of irrational fury when he thought of what the boy had done. Draco had always been taught to respect women and never leave them alone, "Always escort a lady to her door, Draco." Draco could hear his father's words in his head. Why hadn't Harry done this? Why had he left his girlfriend, heartbroken and crying, to die in the woods? What could possibly make a man do this?

Try as he might, Draco could think of no motive that would cause Harry to do this, apart from, of course, exceptionally horrible manners. Draco stretched his arms and rested them behind his head, lying back onto the roof. He continued to wonder at Harry's actions on that fateful day as he stared up into the sky.

And why hadn't Harry, Ron, and Hermione returned after the incident? Surely they had gotten word by now. So why hadn't the Golden Trio returned home? Draco knew Ron must have wanted to return to the Headquarters, Death Eaters had assaulted his sister; this kind of event usually made people scurry home to check on the family member.

Ginny had already been abandoned too many times. While staring up into the sky, Draco made the resolution to never leave Ginny, at least not until she asked him to.

Draco continued to stare up into the sky; the sky was a pale, cloudless blue this morning. The sun shone into his face, blinding him at times, but Draco didn't care. Suddenly, Draco saw a flash of bright, fiery red out of the corner of his eye. His favorite color, favorite shade of red. Ginny's hair. Draco turned his head to the side to see Ginny climbing up the lattice.

Her hair was blowing across her face, her white night gown flowing in the wind. Draco noted that she wasn't wearing any shoes.

"Did you forget your shoes?"

Draco noticed that Ginny's cheeks flushed at this. "I, um, forgot them, when I came looking for you."

Draco cocked his eyebrow at this, "You were so busy looking for me that you forgot to slip on a pair of shoes?"

Ginny, who had been looking at the ground, suddenly flicked her eyes up to meet his, "I thought you had left me."

This was exactly what Draco had feared, that he would abandon her and she would be hurt. Draco stood up and walked the two feet separating him from the redhead. Draco wrapped his arms around her and she rested her head on his chest.

"Ginny, listen to me, I'm never going to abandon you. Ever."

Draco felt her nod against his chest.

*

Draco and Ginny lay down on the roof, his arm around her shoulders, and stared up at the sky for another hour. In that time, neither spoke, each content to merely sit and stare at the sky. They had both become extremely comfortable around one another, no words needed to be exchanged, no idle chatter to fill the silence. Draco found himself twirling Ginny's hair between his fingers; it was soft, almost like silk, but thick and strong at the same time, and smelled like honeysuckle, with a hint of sunshine.

Eventually, Draco looked up at the sky and saw the position of the sun, telling him it was almost time for his team to meet. Draco sighed and stood up, offering Ginny his hand.

"We have to go change. It's almost time for the team to meet. And I think you should participate in practice today, show 'em what you've got."

Ginny smiled and nodded. Draco couldn't help noticing that it was one of the brightest smiles he had seen from her in a month, and his heart leapt at the thought that perhaps he _was _doing the right thing.

*

When they got to their room, Draco let Ginny have the bathroom while he changed out in the room. Draco threw on a pair of old jeans, humming a tune to himself. Draco quickly grabbed some black, non-baggy clothing, shrunk them with his wand, and stuffed them into his jeans pockets. Finally, Draco put on a long sleeved, dull green shirt. Then, Draco left the room without Ginny. He had to set up the practice and she would have an advantage if she saw.

*

Draco stared down at his unaware team. This time, instead of sitting on the roof, Draco had perched himself in a tree in the nearby forest. Draco watched as Ginny walked out of the house to join the gathered members.

Ginny was dressed in a red t-shirt and some faded jeans, with her hair tied back in a ponytail. She looked beautiful, as usual. Draco mentally shook himself. He couldn't have her distracting him. Not now.

Soon, every one of his team members had gathered and Draco knew he had to commence the final day of training before their first mission. Draco inhaled deeply and then starting firing curses.

*

Ginny had been talking to Tonks and Bill about the Chudley Cannons when she saw a flash of purple in her periphery. Ginny pushed Bill and Tonks to the side, landing on top of them. Before Tonks and Bill had even hit the ground, Ginny was up and firing back into the forest. She wasn't sure exactly where Draco was, but she would be able to pinpoint his location if he fired at her again. Ginny shot her infamous bat-boogey hex deep into the forests' depths when she saw a flash of orange just to the left of where she had been aiming.

Damn, close, but not close enough, Ginny thought.

Ginny quickly searched for her comrades. Fred and George were standing to her immediate left, Charlie a bit further down, while Tonks, Lupin and Bill were to her right.

They needed a plan. Draco was the best wizard she had ever seen. He wouldn't be defeated by wayward spells; especially while he was still sitting in the trees. As long as Draco had a higher vantage point, they couldn't sneak up on him. No, they needed to draw him out from the trees.

Ginny motioned to her comrades to quickly duck behind the side of the house for a conference.

Ginny waited until each of her teammates had made it to safety before she retreated, never turning her back on the woods.

*

"Okay, we need a plan; we have to get him out of the forest, it's the only way to level the playing field." Ginny said to her fellow wizards and witch.

"As great an idea that is, Gin, ", Fred started

" how exactly do you expect us to do that?", George finished his twins sentence.

"Excellent question. Any suggestions Professor?" Ginny directed her question to Lupin.

"Well, we could try setting the trees on fire. Even Draco isn't fireproof."

"Couldn't he just put it out?" Ginny asked, she wanted to make sure their plan was well thought out.

"Not if we all cast it at once. That should create a raging inferno so powerful that he'll have no choice to retreat." Lupin said thoughtfully.

"Can you guarantee this?"

"The fire will be so hot, any water Draco conjures to put it out should immediately evaporate." Lupin said, sounding self-assured.

"Perfect", Ginny said, a grin spreading over her features.

*

Everything had been going well, for Draco at least, until Draco observed the team creating a simultaneous spell. Teamwork, just what he wanted, thought Draco.

Then he smelled the smoke and felt the heat on his skin. Oh shit.

Draco tried to conjure water using the Aguamenti charm, knowing it would be useless. They had simultaneously each set part of his tree on fire, thus creating a fire so intense that the water would immediately evaporate.

Draco idly wondered which of the members had thought of the idea; it was brilliant. Then, sighing, Draco jumped the twenty feet to the ground, landing quietly. He had really liked that hiding spot, shame he had to leave it, Draco thought to himself.

Draco hit the ground running, he had to take out Ginny before any of the others; she was the most capable and the biggest threat.

Draco ran through the smoke towards where he had last seen the redhead. And then, she was before him. Draco wasn't entirely sure whether she was there because he had sought her out or because she had found him. But, he ignored this uncertainty and took in his surroundings.

As he had thought, they had tried to surround him. Draco could see five of his seven team mates and feel the other two's presence behind him. Ginny stood her ground, in front of him. Fred and George stood on her right. Her other two brothers, Bill and Charlie, were to her left. This meant, Draco thought, that the two behind him were Tonks and Lupin. Shit, Tonks was an Auror and Lupin an ex-professor of Hogwarts. They had really thought their plan out nicely.

Draco quickly looked up into the sky; it was already past noon. Then, Draco felt something shift in the air behind him; instinctively, Draco rolled to the side, just in time to see a jet of blue light flash. And, the fight commences, Draco thought dryly.

Draco was on his feet, dodging and shooting spells simultaneously. Draco shot a Jelly Legs Jinx at Fred Weasley, effectively taking him out of commission. Draco remembered explaining the simulations to the team, that if a team member is hit even once, they are considered "dead". Before Fred had hit the ground, Draco had spun on his heel, sending a hex at Bill Weasley and cursing Tonks. In his periphery, Draco saw a spark of orange and ducked, throwing his arms over his head, as the jet flew past overhead. Draco quickly stood up and turned towards his next opponent, Charlie Weasley. Charlie was a good wizard, Draco knew, but even Charlie wouldn't be able to stop Draco and they all knew that. They all knew that only Ginny was his equal. Draco was aware that they were trying to distract him, until the time that Ginny could get to Draco.

Draco threw a flipendo spell at Charlie. Draco watched with a critical eye was Charlie dodged the spell. Draco sent flaming arrows after the wizard, using a curse his father had taught him. Charlie stopped the arrows with impedimenta, conjuring a snake with serpentsortia, and sending it to attack Draco. Draco fired a confringo spell at the snake, destroying it. Then Draco detected movement in his periphery. Draco dropped to the ground without hesitation as a jet of color flew over his head. Then, Draco was on his feet once more and battling two opponents at once.

Draco was facing Charlie and Lupin and, he had to admit, they were pushing him to his limits. Draco idly wondered where Ginny had gone to, he couldn't spot the redhead because of the smoke clouding his vision. Draco knew this had to be part of a trap, but he couldn't think of anything to do, except finish off Lupin and Charlie as fast as possible. Draco could feel the heat of the fire on his back; the inferno was raging a mere ten yards away.

Draco quickly sent flipendo after Lupin before following it up with stupefy. Draco watched with satisfaction as he watched his old Professor become stunned., sweat was glistening on Draco's forehead. Draco turned towards Charlie, keeping all his senses open in order to detect any sign of Ginny.

Draco cast Expelliarmus towards Charlie, and as he watched the wizards wand fly out of his hand and land a few feet away, Draco felt the cold prod of a wand tip in the back of his neck, just above his vertebrae. Draco's entire body froze, as he felt Ginny Weasley's breath on the side of his face and heard her whispering in his ear, "Surrender now, Draco. I've got you where I want you."

Draco raised his hands above his head and dropped his wand in surrender. He already knew that she was capable of defeating him. He wouldn't be able to fight her when he was in such a vulnerable position.

Then, all of his team members were crowding around them in a circle and Ginny was helping him to his feet. Draco looked at all the triumphant smiles painted on their faces and couldn't help smiling himself.

The team had passed.

"Okay, you passed your final test. Tomorrow night, we become notorious thieves in muggle London." Draco said, his chest swelling with pride.

His announcement was met with cheers.

"Now, before you leave, I need to take your measurements, in order to create a team outfit, of sorts. It will be what you wear on missions." Draco grabbed his black clothing out of his pockets and enlarged them, saying "This is what it will look like, its semi-tight, noiseless, and black, of course."

Draco then conjured a measuring tape and recorded all the information he would need to create the clothing. It was one of the most important parts of the mission, he couldn't mess them up.

"Okay, we will meet back here at around 10 P.M. tomorrow. I will hand everyone the clothing before that. So come here, dressed, with quiet shoes, and be prepared to steal things."

Draco almost laughed at the mischievous looks the Weasley twins were exchanging. With that, he turned and walked towards the house with Ginny alongside him. The sun had already started to set; their final test had lasted longer than it had seemed.

*

That night was the first night the team had attended dinner along with the rest of the Order. It had been a weird experience; the team had been nearly isolated for the past month and now were surrounded by sixty or so fellow Order members, all trying to eat and talk and laugh at the same time. Draco sat there, feeling almost like an outsider. Draco glanced at his fellow team members and saw that they felt the same way. Draco wondered randomly whether he was doing the right thing for the individual members by isolating them. He hadn't meant to; hadn't realized that they were becoming loners while surrounded by others. He supposed that because they got up earlier than the other Order members and only finished working until after dinner, that his team was too tired to socialize. Draco knew that keeping them together constantly from sunup to sundown had been good for the quality of their teamwork, but he wasn't sure if it had been a good idea for the individuals.

Draco decided he would talk to his team about it after the muggle mission. Resigned, Draco finished shoveling food into his mouth and waited for Ginny to finish eating before he went upstairs to their room. Draco could feel curious glances on the back of his neck; he knew that the Order thought it was peculiar how he and Ginny were constantly together, but ignored it.

*

As Ginny left the bathroom, fully dressed in her pajamas after a nice, hot shower, Draco grabbed a towel and ran into the bathroom, eagerly. Ginny held back a snort; it had been a very long day. The battle had taken a lot of energy out of both of them, and they had both gotten fairly dirty.

Ginny peeled back the covers to her bed and laid down her head on the pillow. She smiled to herself while trying to hold back a yawn; Draco had told her that, after her performance today, she could come to muggle London tomorrow night. Ginny's exhausted body sagged into the mattress as she thought back to the day's events. It had been her idea to surround him like that; the entire fight had been a distraction, and though Ginny had known Draco had known her plan, she had also known that he wouldn't be able to do anything about it with the smoke obscuring Ginny from his vision. When Lupin had fired the first shot, as planned, Ginny had run to the left as Draco had ducked. Ginny had watched as Draco battled each member separately, until the remaining two had ganged up on him, as she had planned. Then, Ginny had slunk around the edges of the forest and snuck behind him, forcing him to surrender.

Ginny smiled, before drifting off to sleep; her final thoughts not of the battle, but of earlier in the morning, after she and Draco had returned inside from the roof. As Ginny had finished dressing, she had walked outside the door, in time to see Draco's muscular arms pulling a blue shirt over his lean body. Ginny, embarrassed, had quietly snuck back into the bathroom, but the sight of Draco's back muscles, backed by years of Quidditch and Merlin knew what other kind of activities, had become ingrained in her minds eye, along with the feeling of lust she had felt. The sight of Draco's exposed back and the feeling of desire in the pit of her stomach were the last sensations and sights Ginny felt that night.

***

*

So the ending was a surprise, huh? I thoroughly enjoyed it. Let me know if you did as well, or if it was totally sappy and unrealistic. In the next few chapters, there should be LOTS of action, promise.

Thanks to those of you who reviewed: **DemonsInsideMe, Em Red Topaz, and maggie1618. **And also to those of you who reviewed other chapters this week, or added me to you favorite/alerts list! I got a lot of notifications this week and was extremely pleased .

So chapter 10 should be up soon, its turning out to be quite interesting, I'll give you a hint: We learn a bit more about Draco and Lucius' relationship.

-Katy


	10. Before the Dawn

Hello. I do believe I have outdone myself with this chapter. But that's just my opinion.

Disclaimer: JKR owns all HP related characters and ideas.

Turning Point owns the lyrics to Before the Dawn.

-Katy

***

They say it's always darkest

Before the dawn

It may look bad now

But I'm holding on

To what I have

And what I've earned

I refuse to let that burn

In front of my eyes

I know you think I'm not old enough

To see the wrong and right

Maybe so but I won't throw it all away

Until I gain some insight

I've stumbled and fallen down before

Again I feel myself falling

Please stop I've had enough

Stop I've had enough

-Before the Dawn, Turning Point

***

Draco awoke early the next morning, before the sun had rise, when the sky was at it's darkest, the hours just before dawn. His internal clock told him that it was around five in the morning. Most people wouldn't have been able to get up that early when they were about to become a notorious, and possibly hunted, thief in Muggle London, but Draco was used to strange hours and lack of sleep.

Draco's mind wandered to a time just over a month ago, the darkest time in his life, the last time his father had left him bruised and broken, laying in a puddle of his own blood. Whenever Lucius had been mad at Draco in the past years, which had been often, Lucius would drag Draco out of his bed and down to the dungeons, where Lucius would torture and beat his son until Draco was nearly unrecognizable.

*

That night, Lucius had been in an exceptionally horrible mood and had throttled Draco awake. Draco remembered waking to the feeling of his fathers hands around his throat, shaking him, the smell of alcohol assailing his nostrils.

Draco had felt an icy pain clench around his heart, it was an emotion Draco had rarely ever experienced in 17 years: fear. Draco had jumped out of the bed, running as fast as he could away from his father. Draco had known his father would truly hurt him if Lucius caught him.

Draco had run into the kitchen, busting the door down and frantically searching for somewhere to hide. Seeing nothing, Draco had run into the adjoining hallway. Draco had sprinted down the seemingly endless hallway, his fathers footsteps sounding heavy behind him, nearing with every step he took.

Draco had neared the end of the hallway. His father was even closer. Draco's heart was ramming itself against his ribs, sweat was pouring down his forehead. Draco slid on the elegant, wooden flooring into a nearby room. Draco ran to the window on the other side of the room. He had no idea what room he was in, he hadn't been aware enough to take in his surroundings, he had been too overcome with fear, but he guessed it was one of the rooms that had been untouched since he ancestors had lived in it.

Draco pried the window open with sheer strength. He had almost made it out when he felt a hand grab his shoulder and rip him backwards. Draco went flying across the room, hitting his head on the fireplace he hadn't seen when he entered the room. Draco felt blood on the back of his head, but stood up anyway. It was far from over, the horrors were just beginning. Draco didn't even search for his wand; he knew he had left it, carelessly, when he fled his room. Draco stood and faced his father, staring at Lucius' apathetic face.

His entire life, Draco had been told he looked exactly like his father, like a clone. As Draco stared into his father's cold, uncaring eyes, he hoped more than ever that it wasn't true.

As Draco stared loathingly into his father's eyes, he felt pain stripe across his face. His father had hit him with the cane, Draco assumed. And then, Draco swung his fist at his father. He wasn't going down without a fight. Not this time.

Draco watched as Lucius' eyes widened in surprise as Draco's fist connected with Lucius' jaw, he wasn't used to his son fighting back.

Draco blocked the cane as Lucius swung it towards him once again. Draco grabbed the instrument, which had caused him so much pain, and threw it behind him.

Lucius whipped out his wand and set the Cruciatus curse upon his son. Draco didn't even scream as the pain ripped through his body, a feeling akin to a fire being set to his every nerve ending, he knew the worst was still to come.

After he had stopped writhing on the ground in pain, Draco stood again and roundhouse kicked his father in the chest, sending Lucius flying into the far wall.

Lucius stood, wiping blood and spit off of his mouth, his facial expression murderous. Draco knew he was in deep shit then; he had to get out, or he may not survive the night.

Lucius snatched his wand off the floor and turned towards his son, his entire body a black outline against the moon. Lucius slowly advanced towards Draco, his footsteps quiet, the way he had taught his son years ago.

Draco watched as his father slowly walked towards him, his face invisible, heat and the stench of alcohol radiating off of him. Lucius stopped advancing and stood three feet away from his son. Suddenly, he drew his wand, pointing it at his son's face.

Draco saw a flash of red light and felt pain surge through his body. It was the worst Cruciatus he had ever experienced; his body felt like it had been dipped in alcohol and rubbed with razor blades, every nerve ending felt as if it had been spliced. The pain seemed to last for what felt like eternity, but was really only 30 seconds. As the curse ended, Draco became aware of a voice screaming. His voice.

Draco lay on the floor, staring up at the ceiling. His chest was heaving, his body limp. He felt as if he would never move again, he wanted to die then and there, yet some part of him already felt like it was dead and buried already.

As Draco stared at the dark emerald ceiling, his body sagging from the pain, his fathers face moved into Draco's line of sight. Draco looked into his father's eyes, which had turned into stone cold orbs, and knew the pain was just beginning.

*

Draco shook himself from the nightmare and shot out of bed. He had been wasting time; he needed to start his day. Draco had a lot to do in a short amount of time.

Draco shrugged on a pair of worn jeans and an old white t-shirt, running down the dark stairs and into the living room. Draco conjured two types of black material: some stretchy, close-fitted material for the tops and stiff, thin leather for the pants.

As Draco sat down to magically create eight sets of clothing, his mind wandered back to that fateful night.

*

He was on the cold, stone floor of the dungeons, writhing in pain, hot blood pouring down his face and over his eyes. His father was standing above him, his cane, covered in Draco's blood, in hand. Lucius brought it down upon his sons back with a loud crash.

A scream escaped Draco's lips as the silver snakehead of the cane was brought down upon his spine. He tried to get up, to stop his father from continuing this, but he was unable to. He was too weak.

The beating continued for several more hours until Draco succumbed to the merciful bliss of unconsciousness.

He awoke three hours later to the feeling of dried blood caked to his face and cold stone under his body. The air was filled with the smell of rust and salt: the smell of blood. His blood.

The room was dark and he had to wait a few minutes for his eyes to adjust. Draco slowly tried to move; his left arm was surely broken, along with three of his ribs and possibly his collarbone. His skull had been cracked, his face and body bruised. He slowly peeled his face off of the blood-covered floor, bringing his right elbow under his body for support. With every movement, his body screamed in torment; he was experiencing pain the likes of which he had never imagined before last night.

Finally, after what seemed like an hour of nonstop pain, Draco had managed to drag himself onto one knee; he was attempting to stand up. Draco had crawled to the edge of the room in order to use the walls as leverage. He was now using one of them to support his entire body weight. Draco sagged against the wall as he finally stood. He felt as if all his energy had been drained, and he still had several flights of stairs to climb.

Draco had eventually made it to the stairs; each step he had taken on his way from the cell had been agonizingly slow and torturous. Draco collapsed on the stone steps, his body sinking into them, his chest heaving from the exertion and pain. He wished someone were around to care, to help him. But he knew there was no one; there had never been anyone. Snape was the only person who had ever cared about him, and he was at Spinner's End doing Merlin knew what.

Draco had always been alone, always left to be the object of his fathers hate and alcohol-induced rages, always left to heal himself and nurse himself back to health while everyone he knew pretended that nothing was wrong.

Draco dragged his broken body up the first step, his bones and muscles protesting at each movement. He ground his teeth, ignoring the worst of the pain as he dragged his own body up the stairs, trying to reach the top of the flight, where the light was.

Draco looked up, past the top step, and saw the outline of the doorway. His father hadn't locked him down in the basement. Lucius had probably been too drunk to think of it.

His hopes renewed, he gnashed his teeth together and started using his broken arm to hold on to the railing while his unhurt arm grabbed onto the step above him and pulled. Using the step as leverage, Draco managed to drag his fractured body over the next stair and the next.

After what felt like years of labor, Draco managed to drag himself into the light. He collapsed in the doorway, feeling as if he would never be able to move again. The light was blinding, but Draco's eyes quickly adjusted to the light. His body sagged into the polished, wood floor from exhaustion. Draco felt as if he would rather be dead than move on, but he had to. He had made it thus far.

Draco put his unbroken arm under himself, pushing off of the floor and dragging his body towards the kitchen, where he knew the house elves would be. Maybe they would help him.

Draco dragged his bloodied body across the room, the expensive oriental rugs and lush carpeting hindering his progress. In that moment, Draco hated his mother's expensive tastes more than he ever had.

After what must have been forty minutes, Draco finally reached the door to the kitchen. He had knocked over several lamps and antiques, yet no one had come to his aid. No one had ever come to his aid.

Draco finally managed to push the kitchen door open with his body and lay sprawled in the center of the expansive prep-kitchen. The stones felt cool on his bruised face. He wasn't sure how long he had been lying there when, finally, mercifully, a house elf wandered upon him.

Draco heard a squeak from above and looked up into a pair of large, blue eyes. Someone had finally come. Draco quickly asked the creature to bring him some dittany and bandages, before collapsing back onto the floor and sinking into blackness.

Draco had awoken some time later to see that he had been dragged into a nearby room and the dittany and bandages lay out before him. Draco looked up to see a sink and a mirror. He was in one of the multitude of bathrooms the Manor possessed.

Draco grabbed onto the sink with his uninjured arm and dragged himself to his feet. It hurt like hell to stand, but he had to look at the damage before he could fix it.

The reflection staring back at him was only a bloody mess. His pale blond hair was nearly completely covered in the dark black color of dried blood. His once straight and perfect nose appeared to be broken, his once flawless skin covered in blue and purple bruises. Surrounding the trademark Malfoy eyes were more bruises, taking away from their beauty immensely. And, for once, Draco felt no smirk around his lips, no pride or narcissism when he looked into the mirror. All he felt was exhaustion.

Healing himself took longer than he had thought. The injuries were more extensive, by far, than what Draco had originally thought. His nose was definitely broken, along with four of his ribs, his left arm and wrist, his right ankle and a few toes. His skull had been cracked in various places, his face and body bruised beyond recognition. When Draco had lifted his shirt to examine his ribs, he had found what appeared to be bruises in the shape of Lucius' fists.

But Draco almost vomited when he saw what had been done to his back. It had taken some maneuvering with the mirrors, but Draco soon discovered where all the blood was coming from. His father had carved the words "Quod pars es vos in? Sumo sapienter, filius" into Draco's right shoulder blade. Draco knew this was the Latin translation of "Which side are you on? Choose wisely, son." Draco had heard Lucius utter this phrase many times over the past few years, both in English and Latin. Draco knew what it meant. His father was threatening him.

*

Draco stopped and examined his work: he had already finished two of the outfits. According to the sun, the time was around eight in the morning. It had only taken him three hours to finish two outfits.

Draco felt a sharp, stabbing pain in his right shoulder blade. Although Draco had made a full recovery from all of his wounds, the bruises had faded, his broken bones mended and set back into place, his damaged nose once again perfect, the scar caused by Lucius' drunken carving had remained on his shoulder. It was permanent.

Draco smirked, the inscription was supposed to scare Draco, to make him stay with his father, but Draco had escaped. He had chosen his side; he had sided with the Order.

Suddenly, Draco heard a creaking on the staircase. He knew immediately that it was Ginny, he could tell by the sound of her footsteps. Draco had always been alone, until he had met Ginny on that night. Little did she know that in saving her, he had also saved himself. She was his savior. If it weren't for her, he wouldn't have started the team; he wouldn't have had a reason to live.

The night Lucius had carved the warning into Draco's shoulder was one of the darkest moments of Draco's life. But saving Ginny and joining the Order had been like a sunrise. It had told him that he could begin again, start over. There was always a tomorrow.

The team and Ginny had been his reasons to get out of bed in the morning, to stay sane. Draco watched as the redhead appeared at the bottom of the stairs and walked towards him. She was fully dressed, her bright hair pulled back in a ponytail.

"You should still be asleep", Draco said, scolding, even though he was happy she was there. "You need to rest before our mission."

"What, like you don't?" Ginny replied.

Draco rolled his eyes and continued working, she was the most stubborn human being he had ever met, excluding himself, even he couldn't convince her otherwise.

"These look nice." Ginny had walked over to his pile of completed outfits and was inspecting them.

"Thanks, I still have six more to do." Draco said, trying not to yawn.

"Need any help? I think I can do this."

Draco looked up, startled. No one had ever offered him help before. Sliding his patented Malfoy mask back into place, Draco replied "Sure. That'd be great."

Draco explained the pattern he was using, but Ginny didn't seem to need it. Of course, Draco thought, with six older brothers, she's probably used to sewing clothing. Together, they sat in silence while they worked.

Finally, Draco broke the silence, not because it was awkward, but because he had to start planning the day.

"Do you want to come with me to scout out the store we're going to rob tonight?" Draco asked, without taking his eyes off of his work.

"Yea, I'll go with you." Ginny said, she hadn't taken her eyes off of her work either.

They both focused on their work until the rest of the Order awoke. It was around nine o'clock. Draco idly wondered why they were waking up so late until he remembered that it was a Saturday. Even the Order slept in on Saturdays.

At around ten, Draco saw Lupin walk down the stairs. The professor walked over to the living room, where Draco and Ginny were sitting alone and collapsed on the couch, looking exhausted.

"You can go back to bed professor, we're not meeting for another 11 hours." Draco said, kindly.

Lupin shook his head, saying '"I would if I could Draco, but it seems I've lost the ability to sleep past 10 a.m. Can I help you with the gear though?"

Draco nodded as Ginny scooted her chair closer to Lupin, explaining how the pattern worked. Draco smiled to himself, after the incident, she'd barely been able to look him, Draco, in the eye and now she was sitting not two feet away from a werewolf. She had healed immensely. But, Draco knew, she still had some more to do. Which was why he was teaching her how to defend herself and rob innocent bystanders. He hoped she would be able to survive on her own, if she ever had the need to.

With the help of Lupin and Bill, who walked down the stairs an hour after Lupin, they finished the gear faster than expected.

As Draco walked around to Tonks', Fred and George's, and Charlie's rooms, he thought about how different his new life was from his old.

In his old, he had been beaten down and no one had come to his aid. He hadn't had a savior, he hadn't had a purpose. Now, he had friends, a purpose, a savior. People came to his aid when he needed it.

Draco handed a sleepy-looking Fred Weasley, his red hair rumpled and dangling in front of his face, his and George's gear, watching as the redhead stumbled around the room, threw the gear onto a chair and collapsed back onto his bed and immediately started snoring. Draco laughed to himself and closed the door before heading back down the stairs.

At the bottom of the staircase stood Ginny Weasley, looking up at him with her brown eyes.

"Ready to go?" She said, smiling up at him.

*

Draco explained what his plan was as they neared muggle London. They were going to pose as muggles shopping for weapons. While Draco was examining the store's weak points and what it carried, Ginny would try to find out what she could about the storeowner.

"Wouldn't it make more sense if we posed as a muggle couple?" Ginny asked. "We could say that you want me to know how to protect myself and that's why we're looking for weapons."

"That's a good idea, nice touch." Draco said. Especially since it isn't entirely a lie, Draco kept the last thought to himself.

Ginny grabbed Draco's hand; they had reached the edge of muggle London. Stores and houses were beginning to pop up around them, the dirt road turning to cobblestone. Draco had explained that they would begin scouting the outskirts and move inwards towards the city.

They had been walking a few minutes when Ginny dragged Draco over to ask for directions. He had protested, saying he didn't need them, but she had insisted; she didn't want to wander aimlessly for the entire day.

The kind woman they had asked had been sweeping the outside of her shop, her frizzy, graying hair escaping from its bun. She had taken one look at Draco and Ginny's clasped hands and smiled widely, showing a mouthful of crooked teeth. Smiling, she told them they could find the nearest weaponry a few blocks away. Ginny smiled and thanked her as they walked away.

The old woman had been right; Draco and Ginny had found the first one easily with her guidance. They stepped into the shop, Ginny explaining that Draco, her boyfriend, wanted a few weapons for her protection, the storeowner smiling at the prospective customers. Ginny struck up conversation with the unsuspecting man as Draco searched his store for valuable weapons and weak points.

After twenty minutes, they left the store, Ginny telling Draco that the man had a wife and kids; he liked to play poker on the weekends with his friends and his store closed at 9 p.m., but he usually left around 10, among other things she had discovered. Draco informed her that though his shop had plenty of weak points, like the lack of security cameras and weak locks, he hadn't found any weapons he particularly liked. This continued for the next four shops.

On their sixth try, they found the one they wanted. Draco and Ginny had walked in, holding hands, the bell above the door tinkling as they opened the door. Ginny had immediately wandered over to the front desk, where the storekeeper, a balding man in his late forties, stood. Ginny had explained their reason for walking into the store, while Draco had wandered harmlessly around the room, inspecting the weaponry and security.

Ginny had struck up a conversation with the man, when she noticed that he kept fidgeting with his wedding band. Underneath the band, the skin was tan. Ginny knew this was what Draco had been waiting for. Ginny tore her eyes away from the man's wedding band and continued the conversation as she watched Draco in her periphery. He had almost finished looking at the store.

As they stepped outside the store, hand in hand, Ginny was bursting to tell Draco what she had noticed, but they had to walk a few blocks before she could. After three blocks had passed, Ginny broke the silence.

"That man is cheating on his wife." Ginny informed Draco bluntly.

"How did you figure that one out?" Draco asked, honestly curious.

"He kept messing with his wedding ring and whenever he moved it, I could see that the skin was tan underneath the band. If you're happily married, you don't take off your wedding band frequently enough for the skin underneath to tan."

"This is good news. I no longer feel bad about robbing him. If he can afford to have a mistress and possibly jeopardize his marriage, then certainly he can afford to lose a few swords, daggers, throwing knives, and bows and arrows. Also, this gives us leverage if he catches us. Which he won't. Excellent find, Gin." Draco said, thoughtfully.

Draco and Ginny then circled the block and headed out of muggle London. On their way out, they stopped by a shoe store and, using money Draco had stolen off of an unsuspecting muggle, bought one pair of soft, black boots for each member of the team. They walked in silence, still holding hands, each lost in their own thoughts about what was to come.

To a stranger, they would appear to be a perfectly normal, happy couple holding hands and window-shopping on a nice fall day. They complemented one another, completed each other. She, short, with her red, warm and fiery hair, he tall and strong with his pale hair and perfected, nearly glacial looks. With his long fingers gently clasping her small ones, they looked like complete opposites, but somehow their polarity was equal perfection and wholeness.

*

They had been on the dirt roads outside of muggle London, surrounded by nothing and no one but trees and meadows, for nearly half an hour before either of them had realized they were still holding hands. Both had been too consumed by their own thoughts and plans, too comfortable with the warmth of the others hand, to notice. It was impossible to tell who let go first, Draco and Ginny both realized and dropped the others hand at the same time and continued walking as if nothing had happened, as if they had felt nothing.

*

They emerged from the woods an hour later, walking around the curve in the road leading to Headquarters and stepping into the sunlight of the clearing. Together, silently, they headed towards the Headquarters. The Order was going about business as usual, as if eight of its members weren't about to become thieves.

Draco checked the position of the sun: it was about 4 in the afternoon; they had nearly four hours to rest. Draco opened the door to Headquarters for Ginny, watching as she stepped over the threshold before following suit. They both immediately headed towards their room; they had already eaten in muggle London. As soon as they were in their room, they both collapsed onto their beds without even bothering to remove their shoes; they'd had a long day. And it wasn't over yet.

*

Draco awoke from his dream, it had been about Ginny's hair, again, and saw that the sun had set. He estimated that it was around seven-thirty. Draco looked over at Ginny's bed to see her asleep. He slipped out of his bed, padding across the room towards Ginny and gently shook the redhead awake.

"Time to steal, Ginny. Get up." Draco said, whispering quietly to her.

Ginny grunted in her sleep and rolled over on her side before Draco's words registered in her mind. As she understood that the time had come for the first mission, Ginny eagerly jumped out of her bed and started searching for her gear.

"Over here, Ginny." Draco said, standing next to their gear, an amused smirk on his face.

Ginny grabbed the black cloth and ran into the bathroom to change. Draco smirked and began to peel off his clothing and replace it with the soft, stretchy black shirt. It clung to his muscles, outlining them in black. It was surprisingly comfortable too. Draco then pulled on the pants. They were semi-tight; not as tight as Draco had seen the muggles wear them in magazines, but not as baggy either.

Draco had just finished buttoning his pants moments earlier, when the bathroom door opened and Ginny stepped out. The black shirt hugged her every curve, the pants tight and ending just above her ankles. Her red hair, accentuated even more by the black she wore, was pulled into a pony tail, some hairs had already come loose. She looked amazing, and Draco couldn't help but feel lustful. Shaking himself, Draco tossed her a pair of the boots they had bought in London. The boots were almost like moccasins, but with soles on the bottom; they were quiet, which was important.

Draco and Ginny walked down the stairs and out to the yard, waiting for the rest of the team to show up. By nine o'clock, the entire team had gathered, along with most of the Order to see them off. Draco looked around at his teams' determined faces and then at the Order.

Draco thought back to how his life had changed so much over the last few months. The muggles had a saying Draco had heard: "It's always darkest before the dawn." Draco smiled, thinking that the metaphor was eerily accurate. His life had been at it's darkest point before he had run away, joined the Order, and saved Ginny. After he had done that, his life had become like a sunrise. Now, his life was dawn. It was morning, he had an entire day ahead of him, to look forward to and he wouldn't waste it.

"We will be back before dawn." Draco said, nodding to the Order, before setting off towards the dirt path, the rest of his team following him into the dark.

***

Review, please!

Special thanks to those who reviewed last time: **DemonsInsideMe, OthTwilightHP, Em Red Topaz, maggie1618. **

Happy New Year to everyone, and check out chapter 11, which should be up within the next week!

-Katy


	11. Band of Thieves

Hey, sorry for the delay! I've had tons of work and it's just been crazy. Also, I'm sorry to say that this chapter is a bit short. On the bright side (if you can call it that) it is very suspenseful and there is a cliff hanger. I tried to post it last night, but FF hates me, so here we go.

And about the song, I used the lyrics totally out of context, so yeah.

Disclaimer: JKR owns all.

Third day owns lyrics to Thief.

I am a thief, I am a murderer

Walking up this lonely hill

What have I done? I don't remember

No one knows just how I feel

and I know that my time is coming soon.

It's been so long. For such a long time

Since I've lived with peace and rest

Now I am here, my destination

I guess things work for the best

and I know that my time is coming soon

Thief, by Third Day

***

As Draco turned away from the Order and walked towards the woods, walking into the thick darkness, he noticed that he didn't hear his team following him. Draco could feel their presence behind him, but he didn't hear their footsteps. They were silent. Draco smiled, he had taught them well.

As the team neared the path that led to muggle London, Ginny appeared to his right. Her face was set in determination, her bright hair nearly glowing in the dark. Draco cursed himself; he knew his hair was even more conspicuous. He knew that it wasn't like him to overlook details as important as masks, but Draco also knew that he had had a lot on his mind in the past few days. Draco had been rushing to finish the first part of the training, hurrying to figure out the clothing, trying to work Ginny to a point where she would be too exhausted to have nightmares each night, and all the while staying under the radar, so that his father couldn't find him. Something was bound to have fallen through the cracks; Draco decided he would find masks or hoods of some sort for their first mission against the Death Eaters. Draco shrugged his worries aside; the team didn't need masks while stealing from the unguarded muggle store in the dark.

When Draco felt the grit of dirt road replace the soft crunch of dried grass underneath his boots, he turned towards his team, "We could apparate right into the middle of the city, but I feel like that would be cheating. When we are facing the Death Eaters, _we _will be the ones sneaking onto their Headquarters and hideouts. These places will likely have wards set around them; the wards could be as far as miles away from the actual buildings, for example, the Manor's wards begin approximately three miles away from the front entrance. Therefore, we will need to become accustomed to long walks."

Draco saw the resolute expressions on each of his teammates faces and turned away from them, continuing his silent walk down the dirt path, his stride long. Draco thought back to the night he had escaped from the Manor. Draco had run around half a mile from the back entrance of the Manor, his father chasing him the entire way, Draco's heart pounding in his ears, blood rushing in his veins, before he had, quite literally, jumped on his broom and flown the remaining two and a half miles. Draco had then torn down the wards with a few incantations and flown to Diagon Alley, his heart pounding loudly in his chest the entire way.

Draco supposed they could use brooms on their missions, but securing them would be a problem. Wizard shops weren't like muggle shops; they had wards and nasty curses defending them. Draco guessed he could tear them all down, but he would need his entire team, to bring the brooms back. Marching eight members of the Order of the Phoenix into Diagon Alley in the middle of the night, just to get a bunch of brooms did not seem like a worthy cause to Draco. It wasn't like marching eight Order members onto Death Eater property in the middle of the night. They were killing the Death Eaters. They were accomplishing a task. They were making the world safer.

*

Ginny watched Draco in her periphery. His blond hair was rumpled slightly and hanging over his mercury eyes, caused by his nap earlier. He was staring at the ground, intently, without seeing. Ginny wished in that moment that she could know what he was thinking. His eyes stared at the path as though he were trying to pierce its mind. Ginny knew what it was like to have those powerful eyes directed at her; sometimes she felt as though he were trying to read her mind, others she felt as though he already could. His straight nose sat above a narrow mouth, set in a grim line. Ginny knew he didn't want to steal from the muggles, he didn't want to teach others how to kill people, how to rob and steal; but she also knew he wanted to teach them how to survive. She knew he wanted to teach her to survive.

It had been nearly a month and a half since Draco had saved her, and Ginny knew she had come a long way. After the rape, Ginny had tried to be brave, but she had flinched if anyone tried to touch her, had often melted into tears and sobs full of self pity and hatred. After Draco had moved into her room and let her join the team, she had greatly improved. Training and practicing with the team gave her something to do, people to be around. She was constantly growing stronger, not just physically but emotionally as well. Ginny knew that she was still scarred, deep inside. She still cried occasionally when reality became too much, but she was no longer afraid of the dark. With Draco's training, Ginny knew she could handle the darkness.

*

They had been walking for a little bit over an hour when Draco finally spotted the light coming from muggle London. They had broken through the woods forty minutes into the journey, causing Draco to sigh in relief. The forest was covered in pine needles and leaves, which were loud when stepped on. The team had done well; Draco had only heard the snap of a twig a few times. Now, they were striding silently through open fields, the dried, yellow grass nearly up to their hips, surrounded by sleeping beasts. Draco saw a flash of red in his periphery and turned in time to see the Weasley twins sneaking towards a sleeping cow. Draco sighed in dread; they were so close to London.

Draco raised his hand to get the twins' attention. As soon as he moved, the two froze like children caught by their mother, while stealing from the cookie jar. Draco smiled and shook his head, striding forward once again.

Draco wound his way around the tall grass in the field, his mercury eyes trained on the light given off by muggle London. He could feel his team behind him, their eyes on his back, their feet stepping almost directly where his did. Ginny was at his right, again. He watched her out of the corner of his eye; her red hair was shining, even in the dark, her brown eyes facing downwards, her plump lips bent in a frown.

Draco couldn't tell what she was thinking, though he wished he could. Usually, he knew what she was thinking by the way she trailed off on her sentences, or the way her eyebrows furrowed, but Draco was astonished to realize he had no clue what she was thinking. He guessed it had to be about the mission, that was what the rest of the team was thinking about. Not true, Draco thought to himself, you're busy thinking about her.

After another hour, the team's boots hit cobblestone. Draco knew the team was looking down in surprise, muggle London had snuck up on them. Even Draco had been starting to think that they would never arrive, that they were traveling in circles, on a never-ending journey to nowhere. But, we're finally here, Draco thought, and the journey is just beginning.

Draco and Ginny led the way towards the shop they had scouted out earlier in the day. It was another half an hour's walk into the city. Draco looked up at the full moon; it's position telling him that it was about 11:30 at night.

Draco turned his head around, checking on his team; even on cobblestone, their movements were silent. Draco smirked; they were also quick enough to keep up with the pace he had set.

The team stole down the cobblestone streets, flitting like shadows between alleyways and buildings, quickly and silently making their way towards their destination, the full moon shining down upon them.

At midnight exactly, Draco directed them to form into two groups: Fred, George, Remus, and Tonks on one; Draco, Ginny, Bill and Charlie on the other. Draco instructed Tonks' team to cut through the alley and break into the store from the back, while Draco picked the lock.

Draco kneeled onto the cobblestone, his hands expertly picking the lock with a bobby pin. The lock was old fashioned, like the store, and therefore easy to pick. The fabric on his knees was becoming damp; it had apparently rained hours before. Draco heard the lock click and looked up at Ginny, Charlie, and Bill. As Draco looked up at half of his team, he felt his mouth pull into a smile. Draco stood, fluidly swinging the door open and letting the redheads through. After the Weasley's had gone through, Draco turned towards the street, looking into the dark street, making sure no one had spotted them. Draco looked into the darkness, his vision only meeting shadows; Draco turned on his heel and stepped over the threshold, quietly shutting the door behind him.

Inside, the store was dark, lit only by the end of Tonks' wand. She had cast the Lumos charm. Her bright purple hair was casting strange hues onto the wall. Draco walked into the store, seven silhouettes turning towards him for direction.

Draco cleared his throat, "I've already checked this store out and we need around three swords, a dozen throwing knives, a bow and around two dozen arrows, a couple daggers, a whip, a few staffs and nun chucks, and around four tonfas."

Draco looked around at his teammates faces, and, seeing their blank and confused expressions, explained, "A tonfa is a blunt, club-like weapon, made of wood, and with a handle attached the shaft. It is commonly used to block sharp weapons when training, but I also thought that it could probably be deadly." Draco looked pointedly at the Weasley twins, a grin spreading over his features, unannounced, for the second time, "If the user had a beater's swing."

The team dispersed, walking into the extra rooms beyond the front room, while Draco looked around for anything else that might be of some value to his team. A few minutes later, while Draco was inspecting a pair of beautiful black daggers, Bill Weasley walked up to him.

"Say, Draco, the muggle who owns this shop also has guns. Why aren't we taking them? They'd be useful."

Draco stood, looking Bill in the eye, "I've thought about it. But we're not taking them for the same reasons we don't use the Unforgivables. They're too easy."

*

Forty –five minutes later, Draco was furiously scribbling a note while the rest of his team waited patiently, weapons slung behind their backs in black bags. Ginny stepped forwards towards Draco to see what he was writing. In her black sack, she carried some of the throwing knives, a silver whip, a thigh sheath she had liked, and a few daggers. Ginny felt the sack bump against her back, somewhat painfully, as she moved.

She looked over Draco's muscular shoulder and read what he had written in his neat script:

_**It would be a grand idea to quit cheating on your wife. Someone may tell her. And, thanks for the weaponry. **_

Ginny looked at the back of Draco's head in astonishment.

"You aren't really going to tell her, are you?" Ginny whispered.

"No, but it would do the man some good for him to think so, and if we threaten him, he may actually quit. It's a horrible thing to do, to cheat on someone you're bound to. " Draco whispered back, his voice soft.

Ginny felt her expression soften as she continued to look at the back of Draco's head. Her eyes wandered downward, taking in how well the tight, black shirt formed to his shoulders and back muscles.

"And you're thanking him for the weapons?" Ginny asked, her voice indifferent.

"Yea, well, I don't like this guy. So I kind of felt like being a smartass towards him." Draco said, the grin he was wearing evident in his voice.

Ginny's eyes were trained on where Draco's neck connected with his shoulders. There, she saw what appeared to be the beginning of a long forgotten scar near the right side of his neck. Just then, Draco stood suddenly, having finished the letter and turned towards her.

*

Draco turned to see Ginny's brown eyes focused on him. Her expression had a sort of tenderness that Draco couldn't place or find the cause for. Draco held Ginny's stare for a second longer before she looked away and walked back to the rest of the group. Draco followed her, his thoughts curious about her behavior.

He turned towards his team and announced that they would check to make sure they had gotten everything they needed before they left.

Draco spent the next few minutes watching as his team opened their bags and pulled out various items depending on what he asked for.

"And, finally, how many daggers do we have?" Draco's question was silently answered as Bill and Charlie each pulled three sheathed daggers out of their black bags and Draco pulled the two black daggers out of his bag.

"Okay, let's go, team." Draco said as he threw the daggers back into his bag and turned towards the door. Draco felt his team silently finish stuffing the weapons into their bags and turn towards the door.

Draco stepped over the threshold and onto the street, stopping in his tracks.

Draco's neck was prickling, as if someone was watching him. Draco turned back towards the door, as if he were about to give directions to his team. He coolly surveyed the area, using the reflection in the shops windows to look across the street.

Draco looked across the street through the shop window; his searching met only by empty alleyways and storefronts. Draco searched the sky, seeing only the dark quilt of sky, dotted by stars. As Draco was about to turn back towards the street, he saw a glint near an alley. Draco whipped around, his wand already in hand. Across the street and down several blocks, Draco saw what appeared to be a black cat, but he knew better.

Draco stared down the cat; it's eyes meeting his. It was pure black, a bit of it's right ear was missing, its black fur unkempt. It's eyes held an intelligent yet psychotic and crazed look, a look beyond animal intelligence.

Draco launched himself away from the door, shooting spells in his rising panic. Draco landed on his feet in the middle of the cobblestone road; its stones were still damp. Draco ran the rest of the way towards the animal, his team wondering whether or not their leader had gone mad. He kept running, there wasn't enough time to explain; he couldn't let her get away. Draco saw the cat turn the corner, its black tail lingering on the corner, caressing the stone, taunting Draco. As if through water, Draco heard the rest of his team following, running after him. Draco sprinted towards the corner, the taunting tail disappearing into the dark alley by the time he reached it.

Draco skidded to a stop, peering down the dark, damp alley, cursing under his breath. She was gone. Draco was dead.

*

Ginny watched as Draco threw himself at the cat. What is he doing, Ginny thought to herself. Ginny looked up into Charlie's face. He looked just a puzzled as she was. Ginny looked around at the rest of the team. No one knew what Draco was doing.

He's chasing a cat, why would he chase the cat and try to kill it, Ginny asked herself, think Ginny. Oh shit, Ginny screamed to herself.

Ginny spun towards her comrades, yelling at them to run after Draco, to help him. Ginny was already on the street before she had finished her sentence, her right hand clutching her wand, her red hair falling out of its pony tail. The rest of the team was following her, knowing something was terribly wrong.

Ginny skidded to a stop beside Draco, looking down the alley, the cat nowhere in sight. Ginny looked up at Draco, reading his expression.

His pale hair looked even more disheveled, his jaw clenched in fury. His left hand grasped his wand in a vice-like grip, surprising Ginny that it didn't break.

Ginny reached her hand out to his thick shoulder, touching it tentatively, trying to comfort him.

"Who was it?" Ginny asked, her voice soft.

"Bellatrix." Draco responded, his voice rough with fury and anguish.

***

Review please! Thanks to all who reviewed last time! Sorry, my posts are becoming less frequent, but I'm trying.

Also, I think it would be totally awesome if Draco and his team had a name (it would also save me from having to write "the team" trillions of times) So, if you have any suggestions, either send it in a personal inbox, or include it in a review, and if I like it, I'll try to use it.

-Katy


	12. To See Another Day

I am so sorry that it has been two weeks since I posted! I've been really busy with school and studying.

Disclaimer: JKR owns Harry Potter characters and the Order of the Phoenix.

Norah Jones owns the lyrics to sunrise.

-Katy

Surprise

Surprise

Never something I could hide

When I see we made it through another day

Then I say

Hooo, hooo, hooo

To you

And now the night

Will throw its cover down, ooo, on me again

Ooh, and if I'm right

It's the only way to bring me back

-Sunrise, Norah Jones

*

Draco cleared his throat, turning towards his team. They had all caught up with him, their faces filled with worry and concern. He sighed, dreading having to tell the team what had just occurred.

"Some Death Eaters are Animagi. Bellatrix Lestrange has the ability to transform herself into a small, black, somewhat dirty, cat. That was her. The Death Eaters know I'm with the Order."

Draco's stomach dropped. Lucius would find out in a few hours time. The hunt for Draco and the Order would increase exponentially. And when Lucius found his son, the consequences would be severe. And painful.

"And, unless Bellatrix's intelligence has decreased severely since the last time I saw her, she will have already deduced that the Order is hiding somewhere near here, or within a short broom flight." Draco continued, swallowing back the bile that rose when he thought of what would happen if the Death Eaters found them.

The team met Draco's words with silence. He knew that there were no words for what he was telling them. They all knew that though there was a chance Bellatrix hadn't seen them, the chance was slim. They were all in danger.

The team walked through the muggle London alleys in silence, a feeling of defeat smothering them. When they come to the beginning of the fields, where muggle London ended, Draco decided he should address the situation.

"As you all know, tonight the Death Eaters discovered that I have joined the Order. I'm not sure how, but it happened. Luckily, they still have no idea where Headquarters is. But, this, if anything, should encourage us to become stronger. The next time I see Bellatrix, I want to see her at the end of my wand, her face frozen in fear. We still have the element of surprise, as well. There is no possible way Bellatrix could have figured out what our actual motives are." Draco said as he walked, facing forward, but silently gauging his teams reactions to his words.

Draco's words were yet again met with silence. You're losing them Draco, he thought to himself. Yeah, well, maybe it's time to let go.

"But, if anyone wants to quit the team, I won't think any less of you. This is a dangerous job, we're facing Death Eaters, we will be facing them every day " Draco cut his words off; his team had stopped walking. Draco turned to look at his team.

Ginny was standing in the front, her hands on her hips. Her red hair had come free of its ponytail. On her face, she wore an expression of such incredulity, that Draco immediately felt the desire to eat his words. The Weasley brothers stood behind her, each shouldering a bag and wearing a similar look on his face. Lupin stood off to the side, a look of restraint and forced patience mixed with his usual expression of exhaustion. Tonks was standing between the Weasley's and Lupin, her arms crossed. Tonks' purple hair was hanging in her face, but Draco was sure he had caught her in the middle of rolling her eyes.

Draco had to make an effort in order not to laugh, sliding his mask into place, Draco asked nonchalantly "I could offer you an honorable discharge, I suppose, if it hurts your pride to quit."

Ginny strode over to him, "Trying to get rid of us, Malfoy? Too bad, 'cause you're stuck with us. For life." Ginny broke into a grin at her last words.

Draco smirked, "Hey, Weasley, you know I dropped the last name a while ago. Watch it."

Draco cleared his throat, turning towards the team. "Well, since none of you are quitting, we may as well play," Draco said, dropping the black rucksack he was carrying and hearing it hit the dirt with a heavy _thunk_, "With our new toys."

Draco was teaching Ginny how to hold the dagger properly when he saw a bright red flit past in his periphery. Draco froze, turning his head in time to see the Weasley twins sneaking up to a sleeping cow, once again.

"They just won't leave the poor creature alone." Draco muttered under his breath.

"Best to just let them get it out of their system." Ginny whispered, her eyes focused on the twins too.

Ginny and Draco stood, one hundred feet away, and watched as the Fred and George sneaked behind the sleeping cow and simultaneously tipped it over. The two twins then flew back towards the rest of the team, howling with laughter, the sounds of the frightened cow floating after them.

Draco turned back to Ginny, chuckling to himself.

"Okay, so this is how you hold the knife." Draco demonstrated, his index finger and thumb resting on each side of the blade, just above where the knife turned into the handle, with his other three fingers resting loosely on the knife handle. Draco tossed the knife in the air, catching it with his other hand. "You need to be careful with a knife, yes, but you also have to be comfortable with it. Someone who is nervous around knives is no use in a fight."

Draco handed the knife to Ginny, watching as she put her hands in the same position, though somewhat awkwardly.

"The feeling of being relaxed around the knife comes with time. Try not to grip it so hard." Draco said, reaching towards Ginny's hand and smoothing out the tenseness in her fingers, feeling a small electric shock as their hands touched.

Draco ignored the shock, holding back a smirk as her hands relaxed under his pressure. "Remember that when you are in a fight, facing an armed opponent, you need to keep your knees loose," Draco demonstrated by bending his knees and shifting his weight. "And keep your feet apart, for balance." Draco moved his feet apart, so that they were vertically aligned with his shoulders.

Draco watched as Ginny mimicked him, her knees bending, causing her height to drop by a few inches. Draco took the knife gently from Ginny, saying, "But throwing the knife is trickier. The stance is completely different," Draco said, sliding his right foot behind him. "Both of your knees should be bent, but the left one more than the other. You will rest most of your weight on the ball of your right foot." Draco instructed, bending his knees and resting his weight on his right foot. "Aim your arm at your target, before bringing your arm back, keeping the knife even behind your head and parallel to your ear, and swinging it towards your target. The moment your arm is fully extended, let go of the knife and let your arm continue with the swing." Draco turned to the right, towards the fence surrounding the field they were in, and, with an exaggeratedly slow pace, brought the knife near his ear, his arm bent at the elbow, and then swung his arm out into a straight line. Draco felt the cool metal leave his fingertips. Draco's ears were met with the satisfying sound of the knife digging itself into the wooden post, some twenty feet away.

*

After Ginny had successfully thrown the knife a few feet and the Weasley twins were finished tormenting the cows, Draco whistled to the team, signaling them that it was time to leave. They had spent nearly three hours in the field; it was around four in the morning according to the moon.

The team quietly trotted through the woods, their pace faster than when their destination had been London. Draco supposed that their renewed energy was thanks to their success and the fact that they were going home; it had been a long day. Draco thought back to his encounter with his Aunt. Even though the psycho had discovered he was with the Order, it didn't necessarily ruin their plans. They had attained the weapons, and Bellatrix couldn't possibly know what they were actually doing. Draco sighed, they would have found out eventually. But now, he knew, the team would have to keep a low profile whenever not on missions. But this meant he couldn't give them more of a social life, which he had been thinking about doing.

Draco knew he was keeping them isolated from everyone: their family, their friends, and any significant others. But now, he had no choice. They had to increase their training, not decrease it. Draco knew the Death Eaters were now looking for him and the Order in the same place. They had had their manpower divided between looking for Draco and the Order. Now that manpower would reunite into a renewed effort to find them both. Lucius wouldn't stop until he found Draco.

Draco felt his boots crunching on the dirt, scraping gently over rocks, crackling on pine straw and dried leaves. The fields had turned to woods and the team was silently flitting through the forest. Draco was brutally aware of the feeling of having a steadily expanding target on his back; Lucius would eventually jump to the conclusion that Draco was using his knowledge of the Death Eaters to aid the Order. If he hadn't already.

Draco could easily imagine what Lucius was doing at the moment, what he looked like. Lucius would have his feet propped carelessly on his expensive, oak desk, his heavy boots scattering papers off of his desk and sending them fluttering to the floor. His hands would be pressed together, forming a steeple, as he tried to determine the next move of his only son, who was now his greatest opposition. Lucius had once thought of his son as weak, worthless, even. But now that the news that Draco had joined the Order had reached Lucius' ears, his son was the biggest obstacle in the way of the Dark Lord. His steel-grey eyes would be piercingly focused in concentration as Lucius processed the news, the turn of events, his patent mask smoothly in place, hiding his frustration. He would then look up and bark out orders to the lower Death Eaters, before returning to his thoughts. In the next few minutes, after the lower-ranking Eaters had left, he would reach his breaking point. In a fit of anger, Lucius would rise from his chair, grab his cane, and start beating things. But what, or whom, he would beat, Draco could not predict. It had always been Draco at the end of Lucius' sterling silver, snakehead cane. Draco couldn't fathom who his father would take is anger out on. He had barely ever hit the house elves, even more rarely Narcissa. Draco had almost always been his father's punching bag.

The second reason the team still couldn't have a social life was Draco didn't want them to have too much spare time. As soon as they had time, the Weasley twins especially, they would start exploring muggle London. The Death Eaters would begin watching muggle London, looking for any sign of the Order. Draco knew that eventually the Death Eaters would spot them there, identify them as being the people who had been with Draco tonight, and they would know for certain that the Order was hiding out near London. No, Draco thought, the team needs to stay underground.

Draco surveyed his surroundings; the team was nearly at Headquarters. The tall pine trees were towering over them, casting shadows in the dark, creating darker spots. There were strong oak and maple trees mixed in, giving the impression that the forest was hundreds of years old, yet still growing, still sturdy. The colors on the leaves were already changing; Draco could see plainly, he had excellent night vision. The leaves started falling, caused by a breeze some twenty feet high, where the team couldn't feel it. There were thousands of leaves, each making a careless freefall towards the earth. Soon, the team was surrounded by the falling colors: gold, red, bright orange. Draco stopped, admiring the blur of colors, staring up at the dark sky. Draco saw a flash of red above him, turning his head, he discovered that a small maple leaf tumbling toward him was the exact shade of red that Ginny had in her hair. Draco watched as it glided to the ground, its descent was troubled at first, then smoothed out and became gentle. Draco turned to his right, gazing at Ginny. Her red hair was still shining, even in the dark with shadows casted by the giant trees. The red in her hair was the color of lust, Draco noticed. He couldn't describe the color in any other way. The beautiful shade of red he was so drawn to was highlighted by shades of gold, oranges that were bright, almost like an open flame, and dark, like the color of rust. Mixed in, finishing the swirl of fire-like colors, were scarlet and burgundy, bronze and copper, even a color that couldn't be described as anything other than pink.

The first time Draco had noticed the pink tint in her hair, had been during the first duel they fought. Draco had just dodged her infamous bat boogey hex, barely, by sliding on the ground. Draco had then returned the favor while still lying on the grass. Ginny had spun away from him, her hair flying around her, and that was when he discovered the beautiful array of colors on Ginny's head included pink. As she had spun, dodging the spell, the light from the sun and the spell had refracted off of her hair, enhancing the pink tint and making it shine brightly. They were just streaks, highlights, but for some unexplained reason, Draco thought it was the most amazing thing in the world. It had shocked him so much, he had almost let her hit him with the spell.

Draco ripped his gaze from Ginnys hair, looking up in time to watch the maple leaf softly settle on the pine needle covered dirt floor of the forest. Draco strode ahead, walking silently through the falling leaves. He hadn't set the pace as fast as they had been going; he wanted to savor the moment. Draco knew that this was a rare and beautiful experience, however seemingly common. One of the few valuable lessons Lucius had taught Draco was to appreciate beauty; Draco smirked to himself. As he looked around, the colors of the leaves blended together, creating a solid mass of swirling, ever-changing colors.

The amount of leaves started to slowly decrease, Draco looked up, assuming the wind had stopped. The dark blanket of sky had been pricked, letting a light pink bleed slowly across the stars as the sun rose, smiling, Draco was shocked that the team had made it through another day, that they hadn't been struck down by Bellatrix earlier. Draco looked ahead, watching the last leaf, which looked like pure gold as the sun's rays hit it, graze the grass of the clearing. Draco took his eyes from the leaf, startled, he hadn't realized they were at the clearing.

Slightly readjusting his bag, Draco took the first step into the clearing, looking around. Nothing seemed to have changed. He smiled, noting that he felt like he had come home. Draco had come to think of Headquarters as a home in the past month and a half. He felt more comfortable in Headquarters, surrounded by people he had been taught to despise, rather than in the Manor, with it's cold rooms and elegant portraits, smothered by the things and people he had been ordered to aspire to.

Draco lead the team up the hill as the sun rose in front of them. The sunrise was full of fruity colors, illuminating the grass and the eight weary shadows climbing towards their home. When they had finally reached the top, Draco instructed the team that they couldn't go inside just yet.

Draco walked around to their practice field and turned towards the house, facing the section with the low roofing.

"Seeing as we need to keep our weapons hidden, for safety measures, I'm going to create a room here, outside the practice field, where we can have access to it. Just beyond this wall is an unused room, and I'll seal up the doors to the inside so that the only access is outside." Draco explained, his exhaustion evident in his voice.

Holding back a yawn, Draco non verbally cast the spell to create the door, silver sparks flying from his wand tip as he outlined the rectangular shape on the side of the house.

"Okay, I need you all to press your hands against this part of the house, so that we can all get access to the door." Draco said, lifting his hand and placing his palm to the center of the glowing silver rectangle. Draco waited until he saw seven other hands join his, and the outline of the door glowed yellow. The team simultaneously dropped their hands from the door as the glowing faded.

"So now, there is no password needed, which is lucky because someone is likely to forget it. To open the door, simply place your hand on the side of the house and it should open." Draco said, returning his hand to the door, placing his hand on it. The outlines of the rectangle once again glowed, this time a rich blue, before the door smoothly slid aside, allowing them to enter.

The room was small, the ceiling so low Draco could easily touch it. There were waist high, wooden shelves placed around the room and a door on the other side. Draco instructed his team to take the weapons out of the bags and set them on the shelves. Draco removed his black daggers, examining them quickly before setting them on a low shelf.

The daggers had black wood handles, each inscribed with an icon. One of the icons was a sun, while the other was a moon. The moon was silver, while the sun had a gold inlay. The blades were also dark, but still retained a metallic quality. The sheathes were a black leather, each with the icon on them.

Draco slipped his daggers back into their sheathes, placing them on the shelf, before exiting the room, and walking into the house. Draco waited outside for his team to finish. Once they had joined him, he turned towards the door, drawing his wand once more and silently sealing the door.

"We will resume practice in two days. Meet at the practice field at seven, our work is about to become intense." Draco instructed them, checking their faces to see if any protests were arising. When none came, Draco nodded, before walking up the stairs, Ginny at his side.

Draco and Ginny walked to their room in silence, each too exhausted to form words. For the second time that day, they both walked into the room, barely making it to their beds before falling asleep, not bothering to remove their gear.

****

So once again, I'm sorry it took so long to post, but hopefully it was worth the wait. Review please! Thank you to everyone who reviewed last time!

-Katy


	13. Lives Lost and Saved

Hi, guys. So I'm sick today, but I somehow managed to write another chapter. I'm amazing, sometimes. Anyway, its pretty depressing and gets totally off topic, but oh well… I swear, this FF has a mind of its own sometimes.

Disclaimer: JKR owns all characters

The Fray owns the lyrics to How to Save A Life,

Where did I go wrong, I lost a friend

Somewhere along in the bitterness

And I would have stayed up with you all night

Had I known how to save a life

Where did I go wrong, I lost a friend

Somewhere along in the bitterness

And I would have stayed up with you all night

Had I known how to save a life

How to save a life

-The Fray, How To Save A Life

****

Draco was walking around one of the upper levels of Headquarters. It was nearly five o'clock in the afternoon, around twelve hours after the successful completion of their first mission. Draco yawned and stretched. Though he had awoken nearly an hour ago, he was still tired. Ginny still existed in a state of semi-consciousness, waking in the middle of sleep, only to return to the dreamless abyss. Draco was accustomed to irregular sleep schedules and had an easier time dealing with the exhaustion.

Draco came to a dead end in a hallway and silently turned around, heading in the opposite direction, his bare feet cold on the hardwood floors. He ran his hands along the sides of the walls absentmindedly, his thoughts elsewhere: with a mid-forty potions master, his godfather. Draco knew that Snape was expected to show up at any moment, he would want to know how his godson's plans were coming along. And he had to drop a potion off to Lupin.

Draco found himself mindlessly wandering downstairs as he thought over the past few days. Ginny hadn't had many nightmares, but Draco suspected that this was caused by his vigorous practices. Draco smirked to himself; they were doing their job. Draco knew that part of the reason he had made the practices so exhausting was to decrease Ginny's nightmares. His personal experience had taught him that if your body is exhausted, your mind is often too tired to create nightmares.

Draco found his feet carrying him outside. His bare feet touched the cold threshold and quickly crossed over it into the soft sunlight on the other side. Draco climbed down the white, wooden porch, splinters occasionally pricking his feet. As his feet hit the warm, crisp grass, Draco's thoughts moved towards his team.

Draco had given them an extra day to rest as collateral for stealing every waking minute from them. When they awoke, Draco would give each member strict orders not to stray from Headquarters, and especially not towards muggle London. Especially not after last night.

Draco's brow furrowed in worry, something that didn't happen often. He had no idea how he would tell the Order what had happened in muggle London, Bellatrix had spotted them.

Draco found his hand pressed to the door of the weapons room, the edges of the door aglow. The door smoothly slid open, revealing the tiny room, its low wooden shelves displaying the weapons they had stolen.

Draco walked towards the nearest shelf, one on his left. On it was a silver whip Ginny had grabbed. Its metal threads shone innocently in the sunlight, as if it were a harmless piece of jewelry, rather than a weapon with the power of maiming whomever sat under its lashes.

Draco had only had to use the whip once, but he remembered every moment of the event. He remembered the terrible feeling of his hand bringing the whip down over and over, merely going through the motions, but causing destruction all the same, the awful sound of the wires slicing into the skin, the smell, of rust and salt, and the sight of so much blood coming from one man, his dark brown skin splitting open as the silver whip lashed out; as Draco was forced to whip Blaise Zabini, his only friend. Blaise had been the only person who cared enough to befriend Draco, rather than pose as a friend. He and Blaise, together, had silently resisted Voldemort, protested becoming Death Eaters, and been forced into the Eater lifestyle.

It was the middle of sixth year, Blaise had been ordered to assassinate an unknown, innocent witch. It had been an order easy enough to follow, they had both killed plenty in their lives, but Voldemort had asked too much of Blaise, and Draco's best friend had snapped.

Blaise had been under a lot of pressure that year; both of his parents had been killed in raids. A stray Killing Curse had hit his mother in the summer, his father killed by an Order member, in self-defense, during the Christmas holidays. Blaise had been at the raid when his father had been killed, had seen the Order member shield himself as his father shot the Killing Curse at him. Blaise had witnessed the green light shoot off of the shield and bounce back at his father. Blaise had screamed at his father to duck, to run, to do something, but the man hadn't been quick enough. Blaise had watched as his father had been knocked backwards, his wand flying from his hand, the life fading from his body before it hit the ground.

Draco had been at the raid, though he hadn't seen the fight. He had been facing off against two Order members, trying to discover a way to not kill them, without the Death Eaters knowing what he had done. As Draco had raised his wand, he had heard the screaming. Draco had immediately known it was Blaise and had taken off running towards the sound, frantically searching the demolished remains of the townhouse. Draco had run into what used to be the parlor, and, through his mask, had seen Blaise yelling as his father was hit; he had run into the room in time to see Blaise's father fall, the charred remains of the floor covered in broken china and the splintered remains of furniture.

Draco had run into the room, casting a shield charm between Blaise and the Order. Draco remembered the pull of his muscles as he had grabbed Blaise's arms, pulling them behind his back. He remembered they had wrestled, grappled for dominance, Blaise trying to break free from Draco's hold, Draco attempting to constrain Blaise long enough to escape the battle.

Draco raised his voice, trying to get his attention, to get through to his friend. "Blaise! Listen to me! He's dead! We are at war! Any minute, my shield will break and those Order members will attack and kill us!" Draco nearly sighed in relief as he felt Blaise's arm muscles slacken.

Draco quickly rushed Blaise out of the townhouse and into the streets. The entire street was afire, every house being burned to the ground. Draco pushed Blaise onto the sidewalk, forcing him to sit, before ripping his own mask off and rubbing the sweat off with his sleeve.

Draco had no idea what to say to Blaise, knew that there was nothing he could do. Draco slowly lowered himself to the ground, sitting next to Blaise, aware that he could not comfort his only friend, that his friend was helpless and could only be cured by time.

The ground was cold beneath him, despite the fires blazing just yards away. Draco turned his head, studying Blaise. Blaise's face was covered in ash, clean only where tears had left tracks, washing away the soot. As Draco watched, his friends face hardened in resolved.

After watching his father die, Blaise had changed. He had started openly defying the Dark Lord. Draco knew that Blaise now had nothing to live for. Draco wasn't even sure that he had anything to live for, but fear of death. Blaise had become hopeless, while Draco clung to hope that he could someday escape.

Draco had tried to talk to his friend. He had often tried to force him to sit down, to express his feelings, but Draco had soon learned that he couldn't force his friend to talk. Over the next few months, Draco had started fearing that Blaise would do something crazy. Blaise had become more reclusive, had stopped talking. Draco often found him passed out drunk in the Slytherin common rooms and was always baffled as to where his friend had gotten the alcohol. Draco would drag his friend to the dormitories, often sitting up all night with him while he vomited. Draco was lost; he had no idea what to do for his friend. He didn't want to force him into a conversation, but he was afraid of what the pressures of suddenly being an orphan would do to him.

Draco could remember the day he was forced to whip his best friend as if he were still there, still cutting through his flesh as if it were merely air, though it sometimes felt as if it were lifetimes ago.

Draco and Blaise had been forced to attend a Death Eater ceremony. It was Easter Break and both had, blindly, stupidly, returned home. Blaise had returned to an empty home, devoid of all life but a few house elves, while Draco had returned to mid-night beatings and daylight hours full of pain.

They were both kneeling, faces nearly touching the stone floor of the basement they were in, two people in a large circle of fifty. The Dark Lord had a penchant for dungeons and other eerie places, and loved to hold ceremonies in them. Draco had felt Lord Voldemort's presence as he had brushed past Draco, before stopping in front of Blaise, a dozen people down from Draco. Draco's heart had begun pounding the instance the Dark Lord's pace had slowed. This can't be good, Draco had thought. His hands, pressed against the cold stone, were suddenly sweating and clammy with worry for his friend.

"Blaise Zabini. Rise." Draco heard the unnatural voice command. Footsteps, the Dark Lords, started to fade heading towards his throne set in the middle of the circle of kneelers.

Draco lifted his head when he thought the Dark Lord had reached his throne, his cue to stop bowing. Draco's eyes touched on the Dark Lord's pale white face before flicking over to his friend, who was steadily walking towards the center of the circle. Draco saw that his friend's face was set in determination, his hands steady and strong. Other Death Eaters looked up at him in jealousy, wishing they could prove their worth, be given a chance, be recognized publicly by the Dark Lord as well.

Blaise had reached the center of the room and removed his mask, kneeling in front of the Dark Lord. Draco was shocked at how calm Blaise was. He was as scared of the Dark Lord as Draco was. Suddenly the truth dawned on Draco, as if light had filled his mind, illuminating all of the dark corners where the clues Draco had missed were hiding. Blaise was going to refuse the Dark Lord. He was going to get himself killed.

Draco couldn't do anything; he was helpless. If he interrupted the Dark Lord, twenty Killing Curses would likely shoot him down, before he had spoken an entire sentence. Draco didn't want to die. He was powerless.

Draco watched and listened intently as the Dark Lord explained what he wanted from Blaise.

"Zabini, there is a young witch girl, about your age, whose family has caused a great deal of trouble and impeded the progress of our reign. I order you to rape and kill her-" The Dark Lord began.

"No." Blaise said, his voice firm. Draco felt a swelling of pride beneath his horror and worry.

"What did you say to your Lord?" Draco heard Bellatrix, who was standing beside the Dark Lord, screech.

"No. I won't do it. I won't tear apart another family, like this organization killed mine. I refuse." Blaise stated calmly, before turned away from Voldemort.

A jet of red flew from Bellatrix's and hit Blaise's back. Draco's best friend was on the ground, his screams filling the dank basement as the Cruciatus curse tore through his body.

"That's enough Bella. I have more… " Voldemort trailed off as if choosing his words wisely, "appropriate means of punishment. Draco Malfoy! Rise."

Draco's heart leapt in his throat when he heard his name called by the Dark Lord. Draco sat dumbly, unbelieving, for a moment before he felt his legs shakily rise, felt himself put one foot in front of the other, as if under the Imperius Curse. But, Draco wasn't being controlled, he was painfully aware of his surroundings, of what Voldemort was going to make him do. Draco knelt in front of the Dark Lord, removing his Death Eater mask and checking to make sure that his emotions could not be discerned.

After a few moments of silence, in which Draco guessed Voldemort communicated with Bellatrix through Occlumency, a silver whip was placed before Draco. Draco looked up from the ground, away from the whip. He saw his Aunt backing up from him, smiling crazily, her dark eyes possessing a raving look. Draco immediately knew what Voldemort wanted, why Bellatrix was so excited.

Draco looked down at the silver whip; it was glinting innocently in the light cast by the torches. Draco felt bile rise in his throat as he thought about what he was being asked to do. His mind flashed back to happier times, before Draco was beaten nightly, before Blaise was orphaned, before their lives had been ruined and taken such wrong turns, Draco wondered idly when his life had gone so wrong, become so bitter. He remembered being young and happy, playing Quidditch with Blaise as their parents watched, chatting on the patio of the Manor. Blaise and Draco had been unaware that their parents were discussing the Dark Lord, someone they hadn't know then, that the person they were discussing would be the end of their happiness, their world, their lives.

Draco stared up into the Dark Lord's eyes, shocked, unbelieving, He couldn't believe he had ever wanted to be a part of this organization. An organization that forced teenage boys to whip, possibly- no, most likely- kill, their friends. Voldemort's red eyes shone with psychopathic glee, he was enjoying the pain he was causing both men. Draco felt his tongue forming a refusal, his lips curling in denial as he stared into the sadistic red eyes. Then, pain shot through his body, unlike he had ever felt before. Draco found the strength to turn his head, to find the source.

His father.

Lucius was standing up in the crowd, his wand pointed towards his son as Draco thrashed on the cold stone in pain, hitting his head on the ground as the pain flooded his body.

Lucius slowly advanced upon his son, until he was looming over him, his shadow obscuring the light. As his fathers imposing figure eclipsed the light, Draco felt the pain slowly leave his body, leaving him on the ground, panting, exhausted.

Lucius bent down towards his son, "Do it, Draco. Or there will be more of that tonight, and the night after that, and the night after that, until it kills you." Lucius' voice held pure loathing; Draco didn't doubt for a second his father's sincerity. He would do it, without hesitation, without remorse, without concern.

Draco turned his head and noticed that Blaise had been tied between two posts, one hand tied to each, so that his back was exposed. His eyes connecting with Blaise's. Draco saw the depression that lingered in his eyes, his heart. He wondered how he could have missed it, wondered what had happened to his intuition. Blaise's eyes flashed resolve and he nodded his head, telling Draco to do what he had to do. As Draco put his hand on the cold ground to rise, his eyes did not leave Blaise's. Draco painfully stood, slowly rising, grabbing the silver whip off the ground, the metal burning his hands.

Blaise's black eyes were sending Draco thousands of silent messages at once. Draco felt his eyes well with tears and pain, as he read them each. One told him of Blaise's pain, how he had tried to hide it from everyone, that he hadn't wanted to worry Draco. Another informed Draco that the pain wasn't getting better over time, that he had given up, he had quit, he had no hope. The last ones were goodbyes. Draco was standing next to Blaise, the whip raised in his hand, as he read Blaise's thoughts. He knew he was doing this for his friend. Blaise's eyes communicated that he didn't want anyone else doing this, that he hoped that at least one of them could get out of this alive, that if Blaise had to die, Draco didn't. Someone needed to live.

Draco brought his arm down, his mercury eyes still focused on Blaise's black ones, as he deciphered the final message from Blaise. Don't forget me, my friend. Blaise tore his gaze from Draco's as the whip bit into his back.

Draco felt his hand move, felt the whip bite into his best friend, his only companion, heard the white shirt tear, saw the blood rush, turning to white material red, yet Draco knew only shock. His body felt possessed, but without the guiltless bliss of the Imperius. Draco's entire body was numb, mindless. He was killing his best friend, because he was being forced to, because he had been asked to, because it was either Blaise or Draco.

Draco had no idea how long he stood there, his left arm moving up and down, beating Blaise with the whip, but after a while, Draco saw that Blaise had relaxed against his binds, that Blaise had quit trying to choke back the screams. Blaise's voice once again filled the air, nearly suffocating Draco. Draco felt as if there was no air, that he would never breathe again. He was sweating, but the moisture felt like ice water running down his back and neck, tracing over his many scars.

Draco lost count of how many lashes he gave Blaise, but eventually his friends screams died, his muscles became limp, and the Death Eaters untied his body. Draco threw the whip away from him, hearing it skid across the stone floor, as he collapsed onto his knees, his hands on the cold floor once again, as he threw up in disgust. Draco watched as the Death Eaters carried Blaise's body outside. Draco numbly stood, wiping bile off of his mouth, he couldn't let Blaise out of his sight, he owed him that much.

Draco hurried to catch up with the horde of Death Eaters, stumbling blindly over the stones of the basement floor. Draco found himself outside, the cool air soothing his hot face. Draco looked across the yard in time to see the Death Eaters light a bonfire and carelessly throw Blaise's body into the flames. As a group, the Death Eaters turned, as if they didn't know the boy whose body they were burning, as if his parents hadn't been their friends, their comrades, and troop back inside, not one of them turning back to give the boy a second glance.

Draco numbly drew towards the fire, like a moth to a flame, and stared into the bright light. Draco felt the tears welling into his eyes. He hadn't cried in years, since Lucius had once beat him for it when he was ten, but allowed himself to. As the tears rolled down his face, washing away the dirt and grime and ash, Draco cried for Blaise, for himself, for the world. He cried for the childhood he and Blaise had lost when the Dark Lord returned to power. He cried for the life Blaise could have had, the happiness that could have been, the children he could have raised, the wife he might have loved, the good he could have done. Draco cried for the witch whose life Blaise had saved with his sacrifice, he cried for her family, who were unaware of how close they had come to losing someone they loved. He cried for himself, for the beatings he received every night, for the loneliness he felt. He cried for the friend he had lost, the only friend he had ever truly had.

After what felt like hours, but could have been merely minutes, Draco looked up into the sky, where the flames couldn't reach, where the smoke blended with the darkness, and promised that he would never forget his best friend.

After Blaise's death, Draco returned to Hogwarts with the cover-story that Blaise had moved to Durmstrang. Draco had folded into himself, become a recluse like Blaise had in his final days. Draco had become apathetic when it came to life. Soon, summer had snuck upon him and Draco returned to Malfoy Manor, the loneliness, the beatings.

Draco never forgot Blaise, he thought of him all the time. It was a memory of Blaise that woke Draco up.

Draco and Blaise had been talking and laughing, planning their escape from the Death Eater society. They were sitting in front of a fireplace, speaking in low voices, to keep their plans from prying ears. Draco had said something funny, what he couldn't remember now, and Blaise's entire face had lit up, his smile spreading carelessly over his face. Before his parents death, before the turmoil of their sixth year, Blaise had always dreamed of finally escaping from the Death Eaters. Draco set his face in resolution. He would escape, he would fulfill Blaise's dream, he would honor his best friend.

Draco snapped out of his daydream nightmare, really and clenched his fists in anger, his mercury eyes throwing daggers at the seemingly harmless whip, as it shimmered mockingly in the light of the sun. He hadn't known how to save Blaise's life, he hadn't been able to. But Blaise had saved him.

***

So, as I said, kind of off topic, but I hope you liked it! I got some great reviews from last chapter! Hey, if you like it, tell your friends about it. Thanks to everyone who reviewed last chapter: **Music24601**, **blosom95**, and **DracoAmatoe8. **

I'll try to update soon, thanks for reading! Reviews!!

-Katy


	14. Playing with Fire

Hi, this chapter is super long, so I expect tons of reviews. It's around twice as long as most chapters. I couldn't find a song for two reasons: 1. There is too much that goes on in this chapter to describe in song lyrics. 2. I'm too lazy

Disclaimer: JKR owns all.

_Chapter 14: Playing With Fire_

***

Draco silently exited the weapons room after fifteen minutes spent remembering Blaise, in his happier days. Draco refused to move on to the next weapon, he didn't need to be reminded of all his gruesome deeds.

The grass was crisp and dry beneath his feet, the sun beating brightly on his back, as Draco walked towards the front of the house. Draco reached the front and, as he was turning to mount the porch, he spotted a small figure in his periphery. Draco turned, grinning, as he watched his godfather approach.

Snape was dressed in his usual black robe, Draco didn't think he had ever seen the wizard wear in anything else, his black hair blowing limply across his face in the light late-summer breeze. His face was haggard, more than usual, his complexion sallow. The man stuck out like a sore thumb in the daylight.

"It's a bit early for you to be out, isn't it Snape? Aren't you supposed to be nocturnal or something?" Draco smirked, swaggering up to his godfather.

Snape's mouth twisted into a smirk to match Draco's, as he responded, "I have a date with a few pretty witches tonight, this was the only time I could bring the werewolf his potion."

"Are those pretty witches what have been keeping you from your sleep?" Draco asked, his grin still in place.

"Yes, well, we all have our burdens to bear, I suppose." Snape responded drily.

Draco smiled, laughing to himself, and turned to lead Snape up the porch and into the Headquarters. Draco silently padded up the stairs, leading Snape to Lupin's quarters. Neither spoke as they walked down the seemingly endless labyrinth of halls; the wooden flooring was once again cool against Draco's bare feet. At last, they reached Lupin's room.

"He might be still asleep." Draco said. Catching Snape's curious expression, he explained, "We had a mission last night. Just to steal from muggle London, but we stayed out all night and many of the members are exhausted." Draco said, and then added, almost to himself, "Then again, I suppose Lupin is the only one as used to keeping strange hours as I am."

As Draco put his hand on the doorknob to Lupin's room, he felt Snape's eyes on his back. He knew that Snape had heard his last comment, Snape knew about what Lucius had done to his son. Snape was the only one who had helped him during those nightmarish days.

Draco had often gone to Spinner's End in the days after his father's rages. It was there that he would get medical attention, things more extensive than the clumsy bandaging he could provide himself. Snape would often concoct a healing potion; remove bruises, or even help snap a few bones back into place.

Draco slowly opened the door to see Lupin's weary face staring at the door. The room was covered in books, they were sitting on a desk to the left, on shelves, on the bedside table. There were some novels strewn about the floor, others sitting in piles reaching nearly as high as Draco's knees; many even sat on the bed. Nearly every surface in the room was covered in books, but one chair. In the corner sat an old, plush chair, worn from use. Lupin was sitting in it, his left ankle atop his right knee, reading a wizarding book, titled _Spells and Enchantments for the Ignorant_. Draco had no idea why Lupin was reading a book with such a title, considering the man's intelligence and great amount of knowledge of wizardry, but decided not to push the subject.

Draco strode into the room, Snape behind him. As soon as Lupin saw Snape, he jumped up from his chair to greet the potions master. Lupin grinned wearily and silently accepted the potion as Snape reminded him of the instructions.

"Thank you, again Snape. You're saving my life by doing this for me." Lupin said, before sitting down and immersing himself once again in his novel.

Draco quietly backed out of the room after Snape, closing the door behind him. Draco walked down the hall to an empty room, somewhere he and his godfather could discuss matters without fear of prying ears. The room Draco had selected was a small, old library, long forgotten. Draco suspected that the house the Order had taken over had been in use long before the Order had set eyes on it. The library had two leather chairs sitting in front of a large expanse of novels. The books sat on shelves, sagging from the weight, as if almost exhausted, which lined the walls from hardwood floor to vaulted ceiling. Most of the books, and what extra empty space Draco could see of the shelves, were coated with a fine layer of dust.

Draco quietly slipped into the room, sitting himself in the chair on the left. As Draco sat, his hand brushed against the leather. It felt worn, but soft, with age. Draco sat back; draping himself over the chair as he waited for Snape to ask the question he knew was coming.

"How did the mission go, Draco?" Snape asked idly.

Well, at least he didn't take long to get to the point, Draco thought. Snape had never been one to fill empty space with senseless chatter. "It went smoothly. Until Bellatrix showed up." Draco said softly, gauging his godfather's reaction.

Draco's comment was met with empty silence, something, he knew, his godfather was known to do when he didn't know the right words to say. "I chased her, I tried to catch her" Draco continued, "But she was in her Animagi form and before I knew it, she had disappeared into the darkness."

Snape cleared his throat; Draco turned to see his godfather staring intently at a set of tattered, leather bound volumes. As he spoke, he kept his eyes straight ahead, "Does the Order know?"

"That's what I've been dreading," Draco said in all honesty.

Draco wondered if his godfather would give him advice on what to do, but never found out. As Snape opened his mouth in reply, Draco heard Ginny's scream pierce the air.

Draco was out of his seat and across the room before his mind had caught up. He threw open the door, hearing it bang against the wall as he ran towards their shared room. Draco, his head filled with images of Death Eaters and Lucius, his heart pounding in anxiety for Ginny, swiftly climbed the stairs, taking two at a time, until he was on the third floor. Draco kicked open the door to their room, glancing around it as he ran to the other side. As Draco scanned the room, he saw nothing. His eyes were met with the sight of empty corners and harmless furniture. Draco inspected Ginny; her eyes were open, but unseeing as she relived every terrifying moment of the incident that had occurred a month and a half ago.

Draco grabbed her shoulders and gently shook her awake, calmly telling her to wake up, soothing her with his voice. Eventually, Ginny's screams subsided, allowing Draco to feel his godfather's eyes upon his back. Draco had no idea how long Snape had been there, his mind had been preoccupied, completely focused on waking Ginny up. He wondered idly how the man had found their room.

Draco turned his focus back on Ginny, who was staring at him with big brown eyes. Ginny's breathing was slowing, her heart rate decreasing, as she sat on the bed, still wearing her gear. Her legs were tangled in the sheets, her red hair mussed and hanging across her face, her cheeks flushed with panic of the nightmare.

She's beautiful, the unwanted thought popped into Draco's head suddenly, startling him. Self-consciously, Draco released her shoulders, realizing that he had yet to do so. Draco stood from his crouched position, turning towards the door in time to see Snape step through it.

Draco watched Snape's face as the man stepped over the threshold, his eyes quickly glancing over the room as if barely seeing it, then, watching as Snape's eyes landed on the extra bed, the one Draco occupied every night. Draco saw understanding dawn upon Snape, his expressions soften slightly, and his eyes become a little less black. An outsider wouldn't be able to see these subtle changes in his godfather, but Draco could. Draco watched as Snape took in the room a second time, peering into every nook and cranny, silently observing every miniscule detail as if looking for Death Eaters hiding in the corners. Draco smirked at the change in his godfather, at the fact that the simple bit of knowledge that Draco was sleeping in Ginny Weasley's room had changed Snape's entire perspective, had planted interest in the man.

Draco turned to look at Ginny; she had already fallen back asleep, her red hair spread over the white pillow case and spilling across her face, her mouth slightly open, her legs once again entangled in the sheets. Draco smiled down at her before turning back to Snape and heading out the door. Draco walked down the stairs, his footsteps silent, and continued down the hall, only stopping once he had walked outside onto the porch.

Draco plopped himself down in one of the white wicker chairs, leaning back in it. The furniture stuck his skin in some places, but Draco ignored the slight discomfort. Draco waited as Snape slowly approached, his eyes dark. Snape finally sat down on another chair, turning to face Draco. Draco waited patiently as Snape cleared his throat. He knew what his godfather was wondering; why did Draco insist on sleeping in the girl's room? He decided to wait for a question before giving Snape an answer.

"What was that, Draco?" Snape's voice was cool and dry, slightly uncaring, but Draco identified the glint in his godfather's black eyes as curiosity.

Draco leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees, turning his head to look out, over the white porch railing, at the vast clearing, before speaking. "She has nightmares, terrible ones, ones that are at times more awful than mine, about her rape. The nightmares ensnare her, imprisoning her at times, keeping her locked inside her mind. And, apparently, I am the only one who has a key." Draco paused, a sad smile upon his lips. "Lately, they haven't been as frequent, because of our practices. I've tried to make them so vigorous, so exhausting, that by the time we return to our room, her mind is too drained to create images to frighten her."

"And how are your nightmares, Draco?" Snape asked, concern in his dark eyes.

Draco smiled faintly, surprised he'd even asked. "They're still the same as ever. Filled with darkness, never ending hallways, Dark Marks, Death Eaters, my father, Blaise. Ginny's in them sometimes too. Lately, they haven't been as bad. I guess that I've been so focused on exhausting Ginny, I've worn myself out too."

"Ginny's in your nightmares?" Snape asked, confusion obviously written on his brow.

Draco clasped his hands together, turning to stare out at the surrounding clearing again, his mercury eyes shrewd and calculating. "Of course. It'd be unusual if she weren't, wouldn't it? I saved her from being raped, but I had to kill two people in order to do it. Two people I used to go to school with, no less."

"Isn't that your ultimate goal with this team you've put together, Draco? To kill Death Eaters?"

Draco cleared his throat, readying himself to correct his potions professor. Draco turned his head, looking Snape straight in the eyes. "No, it isn't. My ultimate goal is to save lives. Yes, I have to kill Death Eaters, most of whom I will have known or seen before, but in the end, no matter how much blood I have on my hands, I am preventing further blood shed."

Draco saw Snape nod his head slowly, to himself, as if this was the answer he had expected, and respected.

The two men sat silently for an hour, neither speaking, both lost in their own thoughts, but enjoying the others company all the same. The sun started to set and Snape took this as his cue to leave. Snape stood, the sudden movement tearing Draco from his memory, one of him and Blaise as mischievous preteens, flinging dung bombs off the top of staircases, aiming for Filch. Draco watched from the porch as the man who had been so many things to him: father, healer, protector, teacher, and advisor, walked down the slope, fading into the night.

Draco turned towards the door and headed inside. As he padded down the hallways, he noticed that he had missed dinner. Draco slipped quietly into the kitchen to grab some leftovers. He quickly ate and then returned to the hall. The Order was all inside. There were what Draco estimated to be fifty members all crowded downstairs in different rooms. Some were playing wizards chess or card games, other reading, a few practicing spells. As Draco wandered into the rooms, glancing around, he noticed that many of his team members were down there. The twins were passing a bright orb around, tossing it as if it were a ball, rather than something they had created with a simple spell. Draco recognized it as a charm he had seen them use at Hogwarts. In another room, Draco saw Charlie and Bill enjoying what appeared to be a wizard poker match. Draco smiled as he realized they were winning. Lupin was reading another book, while Tonks sat next to him, chatting with a few other ex-Aurors. Ginny was in the same room, playing with an adorable wizard baby. Draco stood in the doorway admiring the easy way she tickled him, making his bubbling giggle rise, causing his plump cheeks to flush.

Draco turned away from the scene, smiling to himself; as he checked the next room, he found whom he was looking for. Alastor Moody and Kingsley Shacklebolt, the leader and second in command of the Order, sat in leather chairs in the center of the room, leaning towards one another and discussing Order matters in low, secretive voices. Draco knocked on the side of the door, letting them know he was there, and watched as both men cleared their throats, straightened up and leaned back in their chairs as if to cover up the fact that they had been whispering.

Smirking to himself, Draco shook his head and walked into the room, plopping himself down in one of the chairs.

"How'd the mission go, boy?" Alastor Moody growled. Mad-Eye hadn't been at Headquarters the day Draco had joined the Order, but Draco had quickly adjusted to the man's gruff, no-nonsense attitude.

"Well, I've got good news, and I've got bad news. The bad news is that Bellatrix Lestrange saw us on our way out. The good news is that she can't possibly know what we're actually doing, she just knows that I'm with the Order." Draco paused, waiting for the blow to fall, the one that told him that the team was being dismantled and he was being discharged from the Order.

"Sounds like a success to me." Kingsley Shacklebolt's deep voice rumbled. "If you ran into Bellatrix Lestrange and kept your insanity, then you've got to be doing something right."

"He's right, boy. Now leave, we have more important matters to attend to." Mad-Eye growled, pointing his cane at the door.

Draco smiled and gave the two a curt nod before quickly making his exit.

Draco wandered back to the room he had last seen Ginny in. She was sitting in the same couch, holding the child, who was now asleep in her arms. Draco couldn't believe how naturally she did so. He had always been awkward around children, not to mention scary. Draco walked towards her, sliding onto the couch next to her. Ginny looked up, her warm brown eyes meeting his.

"Hey, thanks for earlier. Y'know, for waking me up." Ginny said, a faint smile on her lips.

Draco nodded in response, knowing he didn't want to say something stupid like 'anytime', both of them would be happier if she didn't have the nightmares at all.

"My birthday is tomorrow." Ginny said suddenly. "I hadn't realized it until someone mentioned it to me."

Draco raised his eyebrows, "Well, it's a good thing I didn't schedule practice for tomorrow, isn't it?"

Ginny nodded absently, "I wouldn't really mind practicing, I guess. I don't want to make a big deal out of it. We can't afford gifts or anything, so I don't want it to be awkward." Ginny scanned the room, as if trying to find the person who had informed her of the date.

Draco silently agreed, remembering his seventeenth birthday, eight months ago, in January. It had been during his sixth year, he was old for his class, before Blaise had died. He hadn't wanted any of the attention or gifts his father had smothered him with. Draco remembered sitting upon a stiff baroque chair, its high back and unbending arms causing Draco pain as he sat rigidly, looking upon the ballroom and all it's grandeur with an indifferent expression. He had looked down at the floor, crowded with Death Eaters, all impatiently awaiting the festivities. The marble flooring had been shined so well, it was reflective. Eyeing some of the dresses the women were wearing, Draco suspected that this was precisely what Lucius had asked for.

Draco recalled sitting uncomfortably in the stiff chair for hours, shifting discreetly so as not to draw any more attention to himself, as his father paraded around the room, displaying his power and wealth for all to see. Lucius had insisted on bringing the gifts out, one by one, and watching as the Death Eaters crooned over how magnificent they were. The first few had been simple enough, a new broom, a few thousand Galleons, some sweets from his mother. But then, as the hours wore on and Draco shifted in his stiff chair, the presents and envious looks began to blur together. Draco remembered when his father had had the house elves bring out the invisibility cloak. Lucius had turned to watch the envious looks as the small house elf carrying the box had paraded towards Draco, kneeling at his feet, before handing it to him. Draco had uncaringly removed the lid, making sure to pull the buttery material all the way out of the box, so the onlookers could see what he had been given. The crowd had gasped as they realized what the fabric was. Draco had seen movement in his periphery and looked into his father's eyes, knowing that such a gift would not come without a price. The cloak had been for Draco to use on Death Eater missions.

Draco had been staring at the creamy, midnight blue material of the invisibility cloak as the last gift was brought out. A hush had fallen on the crowd, causing Draco to snap his head up, before the crowd broke out into chaos. Draco searched the crowd for the small house elf, to see what he could possibly be holding that would cause such pandemonium. But he hadn't been carrying anything. He had been leading someone. Lucius had given him a girl for his birthday. Draco's eyes widened momentarily in disgust, before he slipped his mask back on. The girl was being groped by several men as the house elf tried to push its was through the crowd; there were women tearing at her clothes. Draco had felt the immediate impulse to puke, to yell, to run into the mass and wrench her from the men's hands, but he was frozen. He could do nothing but watch as Lucius met the house elf between where the large multitude of people was still shouting and where Draco sat. Lucius grabbed the girl by the arm, his free hand holding onto what appeared to be a chain, used as a leash. Draco felt bile rising in his throat, and pushed it back down; he couldn't throw up in front of Death Eaters.

Lucius had thrown the girl onto the ground, forcing her to her knees in front of Draco's feet. Draco had met her wide, green eyes with his own, before flicking them up towards Blaise, who was standing in a corner. Blaise had met Draco's eyes, trying to communicate with him, to quickly figure a way out of the predicament, but had found none. Draco had looked back down upon the girl, keeping his mask in place. Her deep brown hair, curled into ringlets, was disheveled. Her arms, supporting her body, were shaking. She was thin, but curvy, her body was cloaked in an elegant, floor length, white dress, trimmed with lace, her bright green eyes framed by a mass of lashes. Her complexion was clear, with nothing marring her skin but a small mole the size of a pinhead, above the right side of her soft, pink lips. Draco felt sickened; he knew that this gift was not for him. It was for Lucius.

That night, Draco had heard screams emanating from the dungeon. Draco had been trying to sleep, his body warm under his silk blankets. He had tried blocking the noise with his pillow, but then he realized what he was hearing. The sounds of a girl being tortured. Draco had rushed out of bed, grabbing his wand from under his pillow, and vaulted down the stairs. He had run, stupidly, into the dungeon, where he had received so many moments of torture and pain. His wand lighting his way, Draco had searched the dungeon, following the sounds of the girl's cries, until they were abruptly cut off. Draco had sprinted towards the farthest cell of the dungeon, where he had last heard the girl's screams emanating. Draco could hear his heart pounding in his chest; his blood was rushing in his ears. Draco pumped his arms harder and came to a halt outside the cell.

It was the cell his father habitually beat him in. Draco attempted to swallow his fear, his throat sticking on the large lump that had formed. Draco silently pushed the door open with his foot. Lying in the middle of the room, a ray of moonlight illuminating her bloody face, was the girl. Her body was broken and bruised, her face and hair matted with dried blood. Her legs were pointing at unnatural angles, and there was blood on the inside of the thighs. Her clothing, once a nice, white gown, was bloodstained and tattered, dirt covering what places the blood hadn't. The lace had been ripped entirely off of the dress; the floor length gown had been torn at her knees. Her face, which had once been fresh and unmarred, was bruised and red, one of her eyes swollen where Lucius had hit her.

Her other eye worked well, evidently; as Draco stepped into the room, he saw her hand move out to him, reaching for help. Draco stepped towards her, his eyes on her hand, small and fragile, a glimmer of hope for the young girl, until it was blocked from his view as a large, black polished boot stepped in the way, sounding loudly on the wet, stone floor.

The next moments of Draco's life were a blur of torment and agony. Lucius beat his son until he was bloodied and broken, a mirror image of the girl on the floor. Draco's clothing became ripped in the process, his nose broken, along with other bones, his face bruised. Draco moaned as yet another stab of pain shot up his body, as Lucius dropped him onto the floor, next to the unmoving body of the girl. Draco rolled onto his back, leaning his head against the cold stone floor in pain, gritting his teeth to hold back a gasp of anguish. Draco stared at the stone ceiling, until his vision was blocked by Lucius' cold face, his eyes boring holes into his son.

"Happy Birthday, Draco", Lucius snarled, before walking away and leaving his son lying on the floor, next to the body of a dead girl. Draco listened as his father's footsteps faded into the night before succumbing to the pain and drifting off into restless sleep, as the scent of his birthday gifts being engulfed in flames reached his nostrils.

Draco snapped back to reality, his eyes focusing back onto Ginny's face. He had merely wanted the freedom of being seventeen and the permission to use magic out of school. Draco felt bad for Ginny, in a way, she wouldn't even get the feeling of newfound freedom; she'd had it for months. When the ministry fell, the Death Eaters were not able to keep track of underage wizardry, though they had retained the ability to track apparition. Ginny had been able to use magic outside of school for months.

"So you get your tattoo tomorrow?" Draco asked, looking down at his own, shining brightly, even in the shadowed room, as it sat on his right wrist.

"Yep." Ginny said with a sigh.

"Do you know what my greatest fear is, Draco?" Ginny whispered quietly.

Draco kept his eyes on the fire in front of him, lowering his voice, "What?"

Out of the corner of his eye, Draco saw Ginny lift her lips into a small smile before replying, "It isn't that I'll die. It isn't that my family will die. It isn't even that I'll be raped again. My biggest fear right now, at this very moment, is that I will be separated from the people I love, not by death, but by distance, by this war. Pretty stupid, huh?"

Draco turned his head to look at Ginny. She was facing the fire, her hair dancing like the flames. The blaze cast a subtle orange glow on her face, illuminating her eyes, accentuating the shadows under her eyes. Her face looked severe in the light, she looked aged. Her cheeks were hollow. Her bright hair had faded to auburn; her eyes the same color. Gone was the young, warm girl Draco loved; it was as if that girl had never existed.

"No, it's not stupid at all. It's wise, actually. You recognize that in this war, many people will be safer, more secure, in death, than in the hands of Death Eaters."

Draco looked down at Ginny's arms; the child was still asleep, his eyes closed, a small sweet smile on his lips. She was gently stroking the sleeping child's cheek, her finger absently tracing patterns against his smooth skin. Ginny stretched her arms out, stifling a yawn. Seeing this, Draco commented, "You should get to bed and catch up on your sleep some more." Ginny nodded absently and stood, wandering off into the hall.

As she stood and walked out of the glow of the fire, Draco once again saw the young, warm girl he secretly loved. Draco quietly stood, walking into an adjoining room, where Bill and Charlie had just finished winning a wizard poker game.

Draco padded softly into the room, unnoticed by all the wizards but Bill and Charlie, whom he'd taught to be vigilant. The brothers both raised their left hands in greeting. Just then, a small wizard who Draco knew to be Dedalus Diggle slammed down his cards in anger and defeat, mumbling to himself about cheating, before noisily scraping his chair on the ground as he stood and stormed off to another room. Draco smirked after the frustrated wizard.

"Hey, Draco, come 'ere! We need another wizard to play!" Bill's voice sounded through the room.

Draco turned and sauntered towards the open spot at the table, picking up the cards Diggle had slammed down. As Draco focused on the cards, frowning at the poor choice, he heard Charlie groan. Draco flicked his eyes up at Charlie, who was sitting across from him.

"Problem, Charlie?" Draco asked idly, hiding his smile. He already knew what was wrong.

"Oh, no. No problem. None at all." Charlie lied.

Draco returned his eyes to his cards. They really were a poor set, no wonder the little wizard had quit. Draco then heard Charlie mutter to his brother, "Now we really are going to lose. Draco's practically the one who _taught_ us how to lie. He's probably got a trophy for world's best poker face, sitting somewhere up in his room. He'll clean us out!"

Draco smirked and, keeping his eyes focused on his cards, said, "I don't need your money, Charlie. The trophy came with a few thousand Galleons."

Bill added, "Oh and remember not to whisper what cards you have, Charlie. Then you'll definitely lose to him."

Draco couldn't help smirking to himself as he picked up the last remaining Galleons he had won off of the table and pocketed them. Charlie snorted when he saw Draco's expression, before turning to go upstairs. Draco followed him, a slight jingle of coins emanating from his pocket as he walked. Draco stuck his hand in his pocket, grabbing at the coins to silence them; he loathed making sound when he walked. He had been trained to make no noise as he crept through halls; he became unreasonably tense whenever he made an involuntary sound.

Draco stepped quietly into his room, finding his way effortlessly to his bed in the dark. Draco quickly changed into a pair of muggle sweatpants to sleep in and sunk silently onto his bed, quickly becoming engulfed in sleep.

Draco was hurtling through the halls of the Manor, his father thudding loudly behind him, the smell of alcohol pungent in the air. His heart was racing, cold sweat was pouring down his back. Draco rounded a corner, turning his head to see how far behind him his father was. Draco snapped his head back to the front, his eyes landing on a cloaked figure, and stopped cold. Voldemort was standing in front of him; a glistening silver whip coiled around one skeletal, deathly white hand. Draco quickly turned, fleeing in the opposite direction and turned randomly, blindly, down another hall. As he rounded yet another corner, he found himself stepping into an alley. Draco heard Lucius' footsteps behind him, thudding loudly, getting closer. Draco started sprinting, his blood rushing in his ears. Suddenly, Draco heard an ear-piercing scream shred through the night. A flare of orange flew across his vision, turning his entire world from black to light momentarily.

Draco ran towards the screams, looking for the fellow tortured soul. Draco turned another random corner, his feet pounding on the slick, wet cobblestone, and found himself in an alley. Ginny lay in the middle of it, surrounded by two Death Eaters. Draco took out his wand, throwing a Killing Curse at one. The jet of green flew towards the Death Eater, as if in slow motion. Suddenly, the green flash turned to silver and the Death Eater morphed into Blaise. Draco turned towards Ginny, the other Death Eater had turned into the girl, whose name Draco had never known. As the silver whip flicked its way towards Blaise's heart, Draco heard a second scream, a different one, pierce the night. His own.

Draco sat bolt upright in bed, his heard thudding loudly in his ears, cold sweat running down his neck. Draco waited until his breathing had slowed, trying to return his heart rate to normal, to rid himself of the nauseous feeling of fear in the pit of his stomach. Draco gulped air into his lungs, taking in his surroundings. It was still dark; he couldn't have been asleep for more than an hour. Draco's eyes wandered over to Ginny's bed. She was soundly asleep, her red hair just visible beyond the white covers. As he watched, she turned towards him in her sleep, sighing, before becoming still once again. Draco swallowed more air before returning his head to his pillow. He stared at the ceiling, thoughts of Ginny and Blaise and the girl swirling through his mind. Images of Dark Marks and Lucius, of the Dark Lord and silver whips, of blood and bone, swam across his vision, before Draco finally drifted off to sleep once again.

Draco awoke early the next morning to the sight of a white, paneled ceiling. He heard the sound of Ginny's soft breath quietly rushing past her pink lips, and, turning, saw her young, beautiful face, still calm from the unworried bliss of sleep. Ginny's body, long and curvy, was barely hidden by the thin cotton sheet; one leg was uncovered, as if escaping the confines of the sheer material to explore the outside world. The first few rays of light materialized in the dark sky, shining through the dark window above Ginny's sleeping form, lighting her hair, setting it ablaze. Draco sat in bed a few moments longer to appreciate the view; Ginny's hair was dancing in the pale sunlight, before silently slipping out of bed and dressing.

Draco quickly scrawled a note, copying it five times with a multiplying charm, before grabbing all six notes and padding down the hall. Draco silently stuck the message under six doors, five of which were the doors of his team; the sixth, to which he had added an extra comment, was the door of another Order member. As Draco reached the last room, Fred and George's, he stuck the last note under their door and silently prayed that they would be awake in time to follow his instructions.

Draco padded down the stairs, wandering into the kitchen in time to see a disheveled Mrs. Weasley crying over a pan of eggs. Draco stood in the doorframe awkwardly, unsure whether to leave or announce his presence. His worry was unnecessary, for Mrs. Weasley spotted him. Draco watched as the women hurriedly wiped her eyes, sniffling a bit in the process, and offered Draco some eggs.

Eyeing her tears and runny nose, Draco respectfully declined breakfast, before asking, "What's wrong Mrs. Weasley?"

Draco watched worriedly as the older woman broke down into incoherent sobs. Draco quickly grabbed a chair and offered it to her, crouching down next to the woman as she sat heavily down on it and put her face in her hands. Draco waited patiently for her sobs to quiet enough to allow her answer. "I know I shouldn't be crying, but my little girl is seventeen today. There's no one to send off to Hogwarts anymore. There's nowhere safe for my babies –my grown babies- to stay. They're all old enough to fight in the goddamned war. Ron, Harry, and Hermione. We don't even know where they are! We haven't heard from them in nearly two months! Bill, Charlie, Fred, and George, are adults, members of the Order, daily risking their lives. Percy is off god knows where. And now Ginny. Now, the war is taking Ginny away from me." Draco couldn't hear the rest of her words as they were consumed by her sobs.

"Mrs. Weasley, Ginny isn't going anywhere. She's staying here, with the rest of your family. She is joining the war, the Order, because she wants to, because she wants to stop it before more lives are lost, but she's joined my team. Our team will be the most qualified. The things I'm teaching her are what will help her to win every fight. The same with Fred and George, Bill, and Charlie. As for Harry, Ron, and Hermione, they're aware of how dangerous the world is. Potter's gotten away from the Death Eaters more times than anyone. He's doing something right. Hermione is one of the best witches of our age. And Ron, well, he knows a few spells of his own." Draco finished, feeling bad that he couldn't find anything nice to say about the youngest male Weasley.

Mrs. Weasley cracked a smile, "Yes, I suppose you're right, Draco. I just hope that this war ends soon."

Draco stood and left the room, not before whispering to himself, "So do I."

Two hours later, Draco was sitting on his bed in their shared room, watching Ginny sprint around the room, searching for something to wear to her initiation ceremony. "Ginny, wear your gear. The entire team is, as a show of unity." Draco said, holding out the black garments. This was part of what the note he had sent out early in the morning had said. Draco smirked as the redhead quickly grabbed them from his hands before running into the bathroom. Shaking his head, Draco stood and pulled out his own gear. He quickly pulled on the close-fitting shirt and pants, which were looser, rolling up the sleeves on the shirt to his forearms, before pulling on his boots. As he was lacing up his left boot, Ginny stepped out of the bathroom. Her hair was pulled into a sleek ponytail, the tight shirt hugging her hips and breasts, the black pants, which were tighter than Draco's, showed off her long legs. Draco tossed Ginny's soft boots to her, before turning back to his laces.

They both quickly headed downstairs to the dining room, where the ceremony would take place. Draco knew that it would take place here, because it was the only room big enough to hold the entire Order. Draco scanned the room, it already had a few people in it. Charlie and Bill were standing at the front, near the chair where Ginny would sit. Draco stepped into the room, heading towards the two, with Ginny following. Draco stood next to the two brothers, clapping each on the back as greeting, and thanking them for getting his note. The four stood together four fifteen minutes, until Lupin and Tonks, and eventually Fred and George joined them. When Draco saw that the twins were wearing their gear and were on time, not something they were prone to be, he silently thanked whoever had answered his prayers this morning.

Lastly, Alastor Moody and Kingsley Shacklebolt strode into the room, sending the dull roar of chatter the Order had created into silence. Moody strode to the front, where the chair sat, and Kingsley stood off to the side, watching his superior.

Clearing his throat, Moody said, in his typical gruff manner, "Okay. Will Ginerva Weasley please step forward, so we can get this show on the road?"

The ceremony passed by in a whirl of Veritaserum tests, questions, and oaths. Draco remembered taking the same test, answering the same questions, and making the same oaths not two months ago. At last, it was time for Ginny to receive her tattoo. Draco watched as the words _The Order of the Phoenix: Vereor non cinis cineris_ was imprinted on her skin in shimmering black and red ink. The tattoo artist, a man named Hael, was drawing the phoenix, using his wand tip. As Draco watched Hael, he found it ironic that a man so muscular could maneuver such a small wand and create such intricate patterns. Draco saw Ginny's face scrunch up in slight pain as he drew over the delicate veins in her left wrist. As soon as Hael had completed Ginny's phoenix tattoo, the rest of the Order filed out of the room, knowing that this was the end of the initiation ceremony. As the Order left, the team stayed behind; having read Draco's note, they knew that there was one more thing to be done.

As Ginny jumped off the stool, rubbing her left wrist with her right hand, Draco walked up to Hael, quietly asking "Did you get my note this morning?"

Hael grunted in affirmation, reaching for his wand.

Draco motioned to Ginny, saying to her in a low voice, "Hop back on the stool. Your tattooing isn't finished yet." When Ginny gave him a questioning look, Draco just motioned to the stool, telling her that he would explain later.

Draco turned to the rest of the team, speaking to them in a low voice, "Ok, the tattoo I mentioned on the note was cleared by Moody a couple hours ago. He thought it would be a good idea, considering all the danger we put ourselves in." Draco looked over his shoulder to see Ginny propped back on the chair, Hael holding her left wrist gently, as his giant right hand easily guided the thin wand, golden sparks flying from its tip and fusing themselves permanently to Ginny's alabaster skin. When Draco heard Hael's deep voice utter the words "_defero pannosa"_ he sent the next team member up to the chair.

Draco finally seated himself in the chair, after a short fifteen minutes of watching Hael fuse golden sparks onto his team member's arms. Draco held out his right wrist, his non-wand arm, and watched as Hael drew over the fiery tattoo of a phoenix. The golden sparks flew across Draco skin, sending a tiny tingle of heat up his arm. At last, Hael stepped back, and exited the room, leaving Draco to explain exactly what he had done.

Draco stared at his tattoo. It had been transformed from a soft, glowing Phoenix to a fierce, brilliant one; one that was on fire. The Phoenix's head was white with coursing heat, its wings spreading out in different directions, the tips deepening to a fiery red. Its beak was fierce, the feathers were flames, reaching out, curling and unfurling. It had what appeared to be four wings, nearly resembling a dragonfly; the Phoenix was mid-flight, two of its wings pulling downwards, two reaching skyward. The longest feathers on two had curled around towards the front of the Phoenix, encircling it, and the Order's motto: _Vereor non cinis cineris._ The words "_The Order of the Phoenix" _rested on the top-most part of one wing, where the bone would be. Finally, on the left wing, stretching upwards, were the words "_coniecto divortium"_, which Draco knew to be the Latin translation of "The Infernal Division".

Draco tore his eyes from the sight, standing from the chair, and strode towards his team. "You're probably wondering what the change in the tattoo is about." Draco watched as his sentence was met with a few dazed nods, before continuing, "Well, there have been several changes. The biggest of which, you might notice, is that, seeing as we are a more active section of the Order, Moody and I thought that it would be appropriate if we had a fiercer Phoenix." Draco waited for his team to digest this before continuing on to the second difference. "Also, we have a name, if you haven't noticed. It's imprinted on the left upper wing of the Phoenix. '_Coniecto divortium', _which means The Infernal Division, or Inferno. I thought it appropriate, seeing as who and what we deal with. We are, quite literally, playing with fire." Draco smirked to himself as, at his words, every one of his teammates checked their tattoos. "And, lastly, something that cannot be seen, but what is the coolest part of the tattoo." Draco couldn't help the excitement that leaked into his voice as he said the last part, "There is a hidden spell that, when you say it, you can send a message to any member of the Order with the same tattoo. You can send it to all of us, or just one member. The spell is "_Transporto"_. You simply say the spell, followed by the person's name, or the word "all", and move your wand in an arc slowly from your lips to your tattoo, while saying the message you want to send." Draco demonstrated, moving his wand to his lips as he said the incantation and slowly moving it down towards his wrist as he said the message he wanted to send to his team.

Draco waited a few seconds before seeing every member of his team look shockingly down at their wrist as a warm, tingly sensation ran through their arm and the feathers of the Phoenix spelled out the words "_"Pretty cool, huh?"_

Charlie looked from Draco and back to his arm several times, his eyes wide, before saying "Did you make this spell? I've never seen anything like it."

Draco nodded in affirmation, turning his attention to Bill, as he heard the man say thoughtfully, "It's sort of like that muggle post dad keeps telling us about.."

Draco looked at Bill curiously, amused when he saw that the rest of the team had given him the same look.

Blushing slightly at the curious expressions, Bill asked, "Am I the only one who listens to that man?"

"Yes." Draco said, amused when he noticed that simultaneous choruses of the same word had accompanied his answer by the rest of the team.

Draco watched as the rest of the team filed out of the room, leaving to enjoy the rest of their day off. Draco turned his attention back to the tattoo. Hael had done a magnificent job on it, it had turned out more beautiful than Draco had imagined.

Draco snapped his eyes up, realizing that one presence had not left the room. Ginny stood in front of him, her brown eyes staring up into his mercury ones.

"You made that spell for me?" She asked, her voice soft.

"Yeah, I did." Draco said, smiling, "I know it's not your entire family, but at least now, if anything happens, you can stay in touch with most of your brothers."

"Thank you" Ginny said, her voice barely above a whisper, before standing up on her toes and softly planting her lips to Draco's.

Draco stood, frozen in surprise for a second, before reacting. Draco moved his lips against her soft, plump ones, reaching one of his long hands to cup her head, the other trailing down her body, grabbing her waist, pulling her closer. He wound his hand through her hair, feeling the soft fibers on his skin, Draco slowly backed up until his knees hit the chair. Draco sat down, his eyes closed, before pulling Ginny onto his lap. Ginny put her hands around his neck, while Draco moved his around her waist, pulling her even closer. Draco opened his mercury eyes to see Ginny's warm brown ones focused on him.

Draco moved his lips to her neck, sucking on the soft skin, before moving back to her face. He planted soft kisses on her cheeks, her small, freckled nose, around her beautiful eyes, before finally returning to her mouth.

Ginny suddenly pulled away, her brown eyes flitting to her wrist, where the Phoenix's feathers were spelling out the words _"Ginny, mum wants you. –Fred"_

Looking from the tattoo back to Ginny's face, Draco growled, "I'm already beginning to hate that tattoo."

Ginny nodded in agreement, before sliding off his lap. Draco let his arms drop from her and watched as she walked across the room, towards the door.

"See you later", Ginny said, a look of remorse plain on her face.

Draco nodded, watching as Ginny turned her back once again. When she stepped out the door, closing it behind her, Draco called after her, "Don't think this means you can skip practice!"

Draco smirked as he heard her laugh in the hallway as she made her way up the stairs.

***

I'm going to try to post a picture of the tattoo on my profile. I know it's a bit hard to imagine, but it's insane looking. In a good way.

So, seeing as that chapter was SUPER long, I expect many reviews. That means you, people who just read but never review!

-A special thanks to all who reviewed last time:

**-Music24601 **(sorry I almost made you cry with the last chapter)

-**DemonsInsideMe ** (who faithfully reviews ALL the time. Thanks for that)

**-AnnaMaria Acidic **(Awesome name, by the way)

**-nina10966 **(Who managed to accomplish the task of putting my story on alert AND reviewing, which everyone else seems to find so complicated. Props Nina)

-Katy

P.S. Review.


	15. Love on the Battlefield

Sorry for the delay, as always. I found that this was, inexplicably, harder to write than other chapters. I think it's because they aren't training and have a lot of downtime. Again, I have failed to find a song to accurately describe this. I think it's because the chapters are so long, but there's a surprise at the end, after my comments and thanks! Anyways.

Disclaimer: JKR owns all

***

Ginny's heart was racing as she quietly jogged up the stairs to the fifth floor, not from the exertion of the climb, but from Draco. Butterflies were fluttering in the pit of her stomach, her heart skipping to a merry tune. Her cheeks felt hot and she had to wait a few minutes before she entered her parent's bedroom, for fear the blush would give her away.

Ginny sat down in the hallway, leaning her head against the wall and catching her breath. She knew why she didn't want her parents, anyone, to know about her and Draco. When she and Harry had first started their relationship, she had practically shouted the news to the world and everyone had become involved; their relationship had not been between the two, but had been like sharing a bed with the entire Order. Not that they had ever _actually_ shared a bed.

The thing Ginny liked most about Draco wasn't his hair, or his eyes, or the way he said her name, or the way he seemed able to read her mind, or even the fact that he had saved her. No, what Ginny liked most about Draco was that he wanted her to be able to fight and protect herself. Harry had left her because he hadn't thought her strong enough, hadn't wanted her to fight. But Draco had taught her, and others, how to defend themselves against the enemy to the best of their ability.

Ginny stood, having decided that her face had returned to its normal color, and walked into her mum's room. Ginny strode into the white walled room and sat down in the middle of the quilted bed, looking around for her mother. Finally, she spotted the little woman as she walked out of the bathroom, holding her wand and levitating a pile of newly folded clothes over to a dresser. Molly Weasley was dressed in an old, blue dress, patched and tattered in places, an apron tied at the waist, her orange hair pulled messily in a bun. Ginny had always thought her mother looked hurried, always busy flitting from room to room, opening drawers, washing dishes and clothes, forever slaving over a hot pan to put more food into the mouths of her multitude of children. Ginny couldn't recall a moment she had ever seen the woman not doing some sort of housework for her family.

As Molly turned towards the drawers to open them with her wand, Ginny thought she saw a glint of a tear streaming down the woman's face, but a moment later it was gone. As Molly turned back around to face her daughter, Ginny saw that the woman was holding a small gift in her hands. Ginny felt her face light up in a smile as she took in the wrapped plain, brown paper, tied with a bright red bow. Ginny felt sinking guilt in the pit of her stomach as she thought of the risk and money it had taken to get this.

Ginny looked up at her mother with sad eyes, a small smile on her face. She didn't refuse the present, as it would be rude to belittle the sacrifice that had been made. Ginny was aware that in order to get this gift, members of the Order had had to save money, something not easy in a community scraping for money, and then someone had been sent out to muggle London to spend time, hours maybe, in the open, looking for the gift, with Death Eaters watching the town.

Ginny gently picked the package out of her mum's hands, feeling the thick plain brown paper bend and pop gently under the small amount of pressure Ginny's fingers applied to the small gift. Ginny slowly took off the shiny red ribbon, careful not to rip it. After she had removed the ribbon, Ginny tied it in her bright red hair before turning back to the package. Ginny slowly peeled back the stiff brown paper, careful not to tear it and keep it in tact. As Ginny removed the packaging, she got a glimpse of the box underneath, a thin, long cardboard box. When Ginny had finally slipped the paper off, she carefully removed the lid of the box. Ginny heard a small gasp escape her lips, as she looked sown into the box.

Lying peacefully inside the plain box was a long, copper necklace, a small pocket watch attached to the end. The outside cover of the watch was gently engraved with a swirling pattern. The engraving was chaotic, of fast rushing waters, yet peaceful, and of slowly flowing streams, at the same time. Ginny tenderly lifted the necklace out of the box, holding it in front of her and watching as the metal glinted in the sun.

Ginny looked at her mum, who's eyes were surely tearing up this time, and opened her mouth, but no words moved past her lips. Molly smiled, her hands clasped together at her waist, "The Order made it, Ginny. Every single one of the members helped. There are sixty-four members of the Order currently living at headquarters, and there are sixty-four links on that chain. Each member made one using his or her wand. On each of the links is the name of the member who made it." Mrs. Weasley informed Ginny, a look of pride on her face, before adding, "Your father and I made the pocket watch. Open it."

Ginny obeyed, feeling the cool, ridged metal against her fingers as she held it, using one fingernail to flick it open. The clock's face was white, a bit bigger than a golf ball, three inches in diameter. Instead of an ordinary clock, though, it was an exact replication of their family clock, but for one difference: an extra person. Where there should have been nine delicate silver hands, there were ten clock hands, an extra one with Draco's name engraved in slanted writing upon it. On the other door of the watch was a picture of the Order, taken right after Draco had joined, even before he had started the team.

Ginny smiled softly to herself, running her thumb lightly across the smooth, glass face of the clock, seeing that all hands pointed towards "_Headquarters_". She felt a small sigh of relief as she looked at the present; no one had had to risk their lives to get it.

Ginny felt the bed shift as her mother sat down beside her and wrapped her soft arm around her. She laid her head on her mother's shoulders, unable to take her eyes from the sight of the necklace, from the watch.

She heard her mothers voice in her ear, saying, "I know how much he means to you, and you to him, even if no one else does. I see the way he looks at you, he cares about you."

Ginny looked up at her mother, shock written on her face.

Molly laughed before standing, smoothing her dress with her hands, "Well, I don't know what he is to you, but don't let him go. I can see how much you care about him. And don't worry, sweetie, I'm not going to get involved." Molly smiled, her eyes still brimming with tears, before taking her wand out, opening the door to the hallway and levitating more clothes about, walking out of the door after the pile of floating laundry.

Ginny sat on the bed, moving the necklace through her hands as she read the names on the links. She saw the names of all the members of the team: George, Fred, Charlie, Bill, Tonks, Lupin, and Draco, scrawled in different writing. Even Kingsley and Mad-Eye had their own links. Ginny smiled as she read all tiny sixty-four names, each etched on a separate link. Ginny slipped the necklace over her head, before sliding off the bed and walking down the hall.

Draco was sitting on his bed, thinking to himself, when Ginny bounded into the room, the necklace bouncing around her neck. Draco smiled, "I see you got the other present."

Ginny nodded, a bright smile on her face, and sat down on the bed next to him. "Thanks. For everything,"

Draco grinned, reaching up to play with the ribbon on her hair and looked at her questioningly.

As Ginny realized what he was doing, she blushed, her cheeks turning a deep scarlet, and explained, "I didn't want to waste it."

Draco laughed, still twisting the ribbon around his finger, before saying, "Well, you're welcome. Now you can talk to your family and know where they are at all times."

Ginny reached down, gently picking up the large pocket watch attached to the thin ribbon of links, and opened it, showing Draco the hands, "Your name is on one of these."

Draco looked at the small lettering, saying, "So it is. Your mother is one intuitive woman." Smirking, he added, "I think that clock is wrong though; it says I'm not in '_Mortal Peril', _but we all know I'm always in danger around you." Draco nodded towards the slightly morbid lettering where the number nine should have been.

"I can arrange for you to be in peril, if you want." Ginny said, a mischievous glint in her eye.

Draco smiled, brushing Ginny's bright hair behind her ear and moving his face so that his forehead rested upon hers. "Oh, is that right?" Draco breathed, teasing her.

Ginny nodded in response.

"Alright then, grab your wand." Draco moved his face quickly away from Ginny's and stood, grabbing his wand and heading out the door without another word. As he silently jogged down the stairs, Draco chuckled to himself; he could practically hear Ginny pouting as she sat on his bed.

Draco was leaning against the side of the house, next to the front door as Ginny stepped outside into the sunlight, a frown still etched upon her face, the ugly expression appeared to be out of place on such a beautiful face, Draco thought, like a scuff mark on the facet of a diamond. Her eyes immediately snapped to the side, and she turned towards Draco. He grinned at her stormy expression, and her quick eyesight; he had taught her well.

As he pushed himself off of the wall, twirling his wand between his fingers, Ginny's expression lightened, as if the clouds of a storm were parting, allowing the sun to shine on the deprived world.

Draco turned away from the beautiful, nearly blinding, sight and started walking towards the woods. He wanted to have the inevitable duel in the woods, where there would be plenty of cover, trees, and possibility of traps and distractions. The last time they had fought, it had been in an open field, with nearly zero coverage, and Ginny had almost won. Draco knew his specialty was jungle warfare: with plenty of places to hide from the enemy and lay in wait for them.

Ginny leaned her head against the trunk f a tree, sinking to the bottom, trying to catch her breath. They were about a mile into the woods, and had been fighting for around half an hour. She had just barely dodged an unknown hex by taking cover behind a large oak. As Ginny gasped silently, trying to fill her lungs with as much oxygen as possible, she heard the crunch of a twig to her right.

Ginny froze, her heart racing. It's a trap, Ginny thought, frantically. Draco doesn't make noise. Ever. He doesn't even snore. He's probably somewhere to my left, trying to lure me out.

Ginny shook herself and stood, quickly running towards the source of the noise, knowing that Draco would be lying in wait, somewhere in the opposite direction. Ginny scanned the forest, seeing nothing but trees, tall and towering. Where is he, Ginny thought to herself. Turning forwards again, Ginny almost ran into a large, thick maple tree, its leaves red and gold. Understanding dawned upon her like the sun rising after a cold, winters night. Remembering one of the first days she had practiced with the team, when Draco had hidden in the trees, Ginny immediately knew where Draco was hiding. He's in the trees, she thought, as she grabbed hold of a long, thin branch on the maple and hoisted herself up.

Ginny was nearly fifty feet high up in the tree, the ground appearing to be so far away, it was as if she were standing in the clouds, observing everything from afar. There was a bright flash of silver to her right and, acting on instinct, Ginny dropped down onto the branch, hugging it with her arms, laying her body across it. As she clutched to the branch for dear life, she could feel the rest of the tree shaking, as if it were being torn down.

As the shaking finally ended, Ginny pulled herself up onto her feet on the branch once again, and saw what damage had been done to the poor tree. The top had been blown off, there were ragged bits of wood and splinters jutting out from the trunk, leaves were mangled and thrown about. He had thrown what appeared to have been the _Bombarda_ spell, blasting through the tree. Ginny felt a wave of rage when she thought how close the spell had been.

After a few seconds of trying to reign in her feelings, and failing miserably, Ginny smirked to herself. Draco had given away his position when he had thrown the spell at her.

Ginny readied her wand, gripping the thin instrument, and cast the _Arcus_ spell, causing arrows to fly from her wand tip and shoot towards Draco. Ginny had seen Draco use it before, many times during practice. She couldn't help smirking as she saw Draco, thirty feet away in another tree, roll behind the trunk to avoid being hit. As the arrows thudded into the thick wood of the tree, Ginny readied her wand again, this time to cast her infamous Bat Boogey Hex when Draco reappeared.

Suddenly, another flare of light was zooming towards her and everything quickly devolved into chaos. Ginny was ducking to avoid being blown up and throwing spells at the same time, watching with dissatisfaction as he easily avoided them. The sky was ignited with various colors, bright blue, deep red, gleaming silver, glittering gold, burning white, bitter green. The colors were meshed together, the first color not even having faded from the sky as the second, from a different wand, flew through the air. The sound of warfare was echoing through the trees, causing birds and animals to take flight in fear, as the loud roar of destruction resonated through the air. Many of the trees had been disfigured, their tops or branches mutilated, their leaves butchered, looking like broken war veterans as the battle raged on around them. As Ginny blinked, she could see spots, caused by the bright blazes and glares from the spells and curses, on her eyelids.

Ginny jumped down to a lower branch as a spell whizzed towards the tree she was still perched in. The tree quickly caught on fire, blazing blue flames, quickly devouring the tree. Ginny knew it was most likely dark magic, Draco had started using spells and curses Ginny had never dreamed of, soon after the duel had begun. As she watched the tree become engulfed in flame, Ginny knew she had no choice. The flames were quickly drawing near; she could feel the burning heat on her back, sweat pouring down her neck.

Ginny looked down, gauging that she was around twenty feet up from the ground. Ginny swallowed her fear, working her throat past the lump of solid terror that had formed in her throat at the thought of what she was about to do. Ginny lifted her face to the sky, her brown eyes meeting the sight of towering trees, red and gold and dark green, of splintered branches and massacred limbs, of falling, twirling leaves, gently gliding their way towards her face, of the burning, bright blue fire, storming and consuming, raging and devouring, the light nearly blinding her, and beyond all of that, all the chaos and destruction and torment, Ginny could just barely see the sky, peaceful and unbothered, a calm, eternal blue, unmarred by the affairs of the world. With the sight of the sky in her mind, unworried and unharmed, Ginny took a step back, her foot crunching on the bark of the tree, before running forward and flinging her body into space.

Draco was sitting, propped in an oak tree, as he watched his dark spell reign destruction and chaos over the tree. Draco observed as Ginny tried to figure her way out of the situation. As the flames were slowly closing in on her, Draco was beginning to worry. He knew he could stop the spell in time, he had complete control over it, but he didn't particularly want to. He wanted Ginny to find her own way of escape. Draco watched, his curiosity peaked, as Ginny's face contorted from the heat and her own thought. She was nearly thirty feet away, but Draco could see her face change from frustrated thought, to understanding, to fear, to resolve. Draco felt his stomach drop; he knew immediately what solution she had thought of. Draco swore, standing from his relaxed position, as Ginny stepped off of the branch, her small, breakable body plummeting through the air towards the hard, unforgiving, unyielding earth, her red hair sparkling in the light of the blue flames, flying around her face.

Ginny was falling, her stomach dropping through thin air, her body hurtling through space and time. Her body was rigid, stupidly, instinctively, with fear, as her body hurtled towards the uncompromising terrain below. Her red hair was flying around her, an obstacle to her vision, giving bright red tints to everything she could see, which wasn't much. The world was a blur, moving, speeding. It were as if life were a train, speeding by her, careening towards some invisible point beyond, leaving her immobile on the platform. The only other immobile part was the sky.

And then, suddenly, ground met body and fear met pain.

Ginny opened her eyes, having closed them on impact, brown meeting the blue sky. She felt her body groan in protest as she tried to move, every limb hurt. She forced herself to her feet, aware she had to stand, that if she did not, Draco would refuse to duel her ever again. And she'd be damned if she said she didn't love fighting him.

Dueling Draco brought Ginny an exhilaration she had never felt before. She had never felt so challenged, or inclined to win, against another opponent; her mind was constantly whirling, spinning, recollecting spells and charms long forgotten. Ginny relished the feeling of complete control she felt when she fought him, as her red hair flew around her, her mind spinning just as fast, her fingers flicking the delicate, powerful wand she held in her hand, sparks flying and creating destruction and chaos, all because she had chosen to, all because she had the right words. She loved the sight of Draco, his face completely blank, but his eyes showing his emotions: excitement, frustration, relief, concentration, as his hand flew around him, his lips forming words, his wand causing sparks to fly and lights to flash, jets of color to wing their way through the chilled air.

Ginny stood, clutching onto the young branch of a nearby sapling. Above her, the blue flames still roared, engulfing the tree as if nothing were amiss, as if they were entirely innocent. Ginny threw an accusing glare at the dancing, taunting flames, before turning to look at Draco.

The blond man was halfway down from his tree, a look of pure awe and shock written upon his ordinarily blank features. His right arm was curled around the closest limb, his foot stretched downwards as if to descend to the next branch. Ginny laughed, before, mind racing, heart pounding, she threw her jelly legs jinx at Draco's wondering face.

Ginny watched with unhappiness as Draco ducked behind the tree and the spell zoomed past his head. Draco straightened and, smirking, threw a jet of acid blue light towards Ginny. Her eyes wide with panic, Ginny dropped instinctively to the pine needle and leaf covered floor as her entire world devolved into the heart-racing, blood rushing, whirling, spinning world she loved so much.

Raising her wand in retort, Ginny felt herself give into her instincts, letting her thought-process take the back seat and allowing her mind to automatically conjure curses and spells she had memorized, and forgotten, in her years at Hogwarts. Soon her world had changed from the bright blue flames and dark green forest to an array of bright, flying colors, each soaring through the air, like an arrow towards a target, trying to find their fatal way home.

Ginny's hair was once again flying around her, sparkling in the sun and the reflections off the spells, her mind was taking twists and turns it had never taken before, her body contorting into shapes she had never imagined possible as she dodged Draco's spells.

Ginny stood from the ground, having just barely jumped out of the way of another dark curse, her necklace banging comfortingly against her body. Brushing her hair, which, in the sun, had turned a glittering shade of vivid cerise, behind her ear, Ginny clutched her wand, before simultaneously sliding her left foot forward and raising her right arm above her head, bending it towards Draco. Ginny felt her vocal chords reverberate in her throat, heard her voice cry out the word _Affligo_, saw her wand shoot red sparks towards Draco.

And then, Ginny saw Draco stand still as the spell flew towards him, his eyes far away and distant, as he failed to dodge the oncoming spell. She once again heard her voice cry out, this time a shriek tearing through the air. And she felt her heart split as Draco plummeted towards the unyielding earth and hit it with what seemed a thunderous thud.

Ginny felt a small stab of pain as her feet pounded into the ground, moving her body towards Draco's unmoving form. She could feel her lips moving, making words, screaming, but her world was on mute. She could hear nothing but the pounding of her heart.

Ginny's form whizzed past the trees, barely stopping in time to avoid hitting them, and finally skidded to a halt beside Draco. She scooped him up into her arms, laying her head against his chest, a wave of relief washing over her as her ears were met with the steadying thudding of his heart. Ginny turned her head towards Draco's face in confusion, wondering what he had hurt. As Ginny spun her head to the side, her red hair whipping through the air, her brown eyes were met with deep mercury ones, a pair that hadn't been open a second ago, and two hands were cupping her face, intertwining in her hair, and a soft pair of lips were pressing to hers.

Ginny smiled into the kiss before pulling back less than centimeter, "You didn't have to fake your own death to kiss me, you know. I'm a willing participant."

Ginny saw Draco's smirk crawl across his face before he responded, nonchalantly, "I know. But I hate to feel fear, my worst fear is fear itself, sometimes, and when I saw you jump off of that tree, it scared me more than anything I've ever seen or done- or had done to me." Draco added as if it were a last minute thought, one not meant for her ears. "It scared me more than anything has ever scared me before. So I wanted to teach you a lesson, I wanted to show me how much it terrified me to watch your body fall through the air, hurtling towards the ground and possible death."

Ginny felt her expression become serious, "Draco, I'm going to be fighting alongside you against Death Eaters, you need to get used to seeing me in danger."

Draco nodded his head before responding, a small smile etched upon his features, "Yes, but I've taught you how to defend yourself against Death Eaters. I'm still trying to discover a way to protect you from gravity."

Ginny threw back her head, laughing, her red hair glimmering in the sunlight, the tall trees towering around her, before turning to face Draco once again, her small, button nose nearly touching his straight, perfect one. "Okay, fine." Ginny said with a resigned sigh, "I, Ginny Weasley promise not to recklessly toss myself off of tree limbs higher than fifteen feet until you, Draco, discover a way to protect me from the impending forces of gravity and the inevitable impact, unless there is an emergency that requires me to do so. Does that satisfy you?"

"More than you will ever know." Draco said, bringing his lips back to Ginny's soft ones, wrapping his fingers in her velvet hair once again. As Draco moved his mouth against hers, his tongue slipping between her lips, he moved forward, his hands dropping to the ground, landing softly on either side of her body and onto her gentle hands. Deepening the kiss, Draco wrapped his long fingers gently around Ginny's alabaster wrists; his thumbs smoothly grazing over the blue veins, crisscrossing like roadmaps. Bringing her left hand up, Draco lightly kissed her wrist, where the tattoo sat, beautifully glimmering in the sun, its red, orange, and yellow hues looking like a washed out imitation of Ginny's brilliant, flaming hair.

Draco moved his lips upward, bringing them to gentle curve of Ginny's neck as a balmy summer breeze blew through the trees, causing cherry-red, copper, and golden leaves to gently glide through the air around the couple, as if fire were raining down from the deepening cobalt skies.

Draco grazed his lips over Ginny's silken neck, the skin feeling as light as air underneath his thin mouth. As his lip moved upwards on her neck, Draco felt a steady thudding, her pulse, pounding so hard, it was nearly jumping at him. Smirking to himself, Draco gently grazed his teeth against it, his actions rewarded by a great sigh from Ginny. Flicking his eyes towards her face, Draco saw that she had her head bent backwards to give his more room. As Ginny tossed her hair behind her shoulders, her eyes closed, Draco realized that the beautiful, fiery hair wasn't twinkling in the sunlight. Snapping his head upwards, dragging his lips from Ginny's neck, with a slight groan from Ginny, Draco saw that the sun had sunk behind the hills, leaving them in twilight. Draco quickly stood, knowing the Order would soon be eating and if Ginny weren't there, they would become suspicious. Offering his hand to Ginny, Draco said, "Come on, Gin, we've got to go eat. Aren't you hungry from that duel?" hiding his smirk, with some difficulty, because he knew she was starved, but would rather stay here. Yes, well, damned if you don't want to stay here forever with her, he told himself.

Draco sighed quietly to himself, knowing that if given the chance, he would give almost anything to be able to lay there next to her forever, leaving all his troubles and past behind him, unburdened and free. He knew that he wanted to stay there, in the calm, peaceful forest, with her, forgetting the world and all those whom he had ever hurt, had ever hurt him. But he knew he couldn't, he knew he had to extract revenge on those who had hurt him, had to teach others how to survive the doomed war and save their bloody souls.

Draco felt Ginny take his hand and reluctantly pull herself to her feet, a look of regret and dismay on her pretty features. Draco quietly took her hand as they walked out of the forest, holding it in silence, knowing he only had so long to do so, to feel her small, delicate hand in his. Her hand was soft, but had the feel of hard work as well, in small calluses along her palms and fingers.

As the two figures slipping through the trees like shadows, hand in hand, Draco quietly lifted her hand to his mouth, gently pressing his lips to the smooth, lightly freckled skin. Weaving their way silently through the forest, the sun sunk lower behind the hills and mountains, releasing the stars from their daytime prison, casting the pair's shadows eerily among the towering, ancient oaks and maples. As they neared the edges of the forest, the copse of trees beginning to thin, the lights of the house emanating from the windows just barely infiltrating the thick darkness of the crowded trees, Draco quickly snatched Ginny from the light, sweeping her quickly into the darkness, where prying eyes couldn't see. Pressing her slender, athletic body up against the trunk of a mighty oak tree, Draco tenderly kissed her lips, feeling them move enthusiastically against his. Smiling, Draco pulled away, resting his forehead against hers, and whispered, " Tomorrow, training starts again, more strenuous than ever. Which means, we probably won't have as much time for this." Draco couldn't hide the small frown that graced his features as he said the last words, his lips nearly brushing against Ginny's.

"I think we'll be able to make time." Draco smirked at the mischievous glint in her deep brown eyes, before her lips caressed his once again, an intimate gesture that had become so familiar already, yet still released butterflies, soaring, in the pits and dark caverns of her stomach.

Ginny moved her lips toward his neck, kissing the soft flesh, brushing it gently, serenading it, before pulling back all at once, the mischievous glint returning to her eye, and turning away, walking out of the forest and into the moonlight, leaving a puzzled and tormented Draco staring behind her.

Draco hopped up the steps to the porch, strolling into the house, a small, harmless spring to his step, and swung open the door to Headquarters, letting it fall softly shut behind him. As he walked inside, Draco caught his reflection in the mirror. His hair was rumpled, the bridge of his nose smudged with dirt, leaves and pine needles sticking to his clothes and hair. His cheeks were flushed, his breathing still erratic and irregular. He looked like he'd been rolling around in the dirt. Smirking Draco thought to himself, which, of course, you have been. Seeing that many people were still wandering the halls, Draco bounded up the stairs to the third floor, ripping his shirt off as he stepped onto the landing, and stepped inside his room.

As he strode inside, Draco noticed he hadn't been the only one who needed to change. Ginny stood in the middle of the room, dressed in a cotton dress, her hand trying desperately to find the zipper, her fingers reaching, stretching, slipping. Draco smiled and strode across the room, gently grasping the zipper and gliding it smoothly up, enclosing the soft, porcelain skin of Ginny's back in the green fabric. Ginny turned, smiling, and Draco took in the sight of her. The straps on the dress were wide and smooth, running gently from the top of her breasts, over her shoulders, and meeting the rest of the fabric below her shoulder blades. The neckline was teasing, not low enough to show anything, but leaving images to the imagination. Buttons ran down her chest, glinting in the soft light of the light fixtures. As the dress ran downwards, it curved in around her waist, tied back by a bow just above where Draco imagined her midriff to be, before widening, exaggerating her hips and bottom, before ending right above her knees. Around her neck, Ginny wore the necklace she had received earlier, Draco had a suspicion she would never take it off, it would become permanent, along with the tattoo. Her red hair was down, having just been brushed, glinting in the light, the copper and gold, pinks and flaming reds, all swirling and dancing. On her left arm sat the pale imitation, the tattoo, the Phoenix looking fierce, its eyes keen and watchful.

Clearing his throat and trying to ignore the feeling of lust, Draco turned towards his bed, rummaging through the stack of clothes, until he found a blue-silver button down and a pair of jeans. Moving quickly, Draco unbuttoned his jeans, noticing that they were brown with mud and bark, and pulled them down. Standing in only his bright blue boxers, Draco hurriedly pulled his new pair of jeans on, before turning back to his bed and picking up the button down. As he turned his back to Ginny, he heard a small gasp escape her lips.

As silence fell over the room, Draco knew immediately what she had seen. The Latin carving on his back, the one Lucius had created during one of his drunken rages. _Quod pars es vos in? Sumo sapienter, filius. _His hands tightening on the shirt in hatred, Draco said without turning, his voice thick, " 'Which side are you on? Choose wisely, son.'" Draco stated, he had memorized the words, traced them over and over again. "It's Lucius' handy work."

Draco felt, instead of heard, Ginny step forward, closer to him, until he could feel her breath on his bare back. He could feel her eyes tracing the scars, and then moving lower, to where more scars sat, plentiful in number, each thin and narrow, elongated, jagged, pale and white, reflected in the dim lights.

"There are so many." Ginny whispered, her cool breath brushing his back, causing tiny goose bumps to sprout. "Did he cause all of them?" Her voice was small, controlled as she asked the question, but Draco detected a hint of venom lying beneath her words as she said 'he'.

"Not all of them. Some of them were caused by other Death Eaters, some inflicted by the Dark Lord himself, some are just a hazard of living with Death Eaters, of raiding with them, and a small few are just the by-product of a rowdy child." Turning around, Draco grabbed Ginny's wrists in his hands, holding them to his bare chest. "But remember my back does not compare to the amount of scars on my heart. I have had to kill and torture innocent people, Ginny. And it has scarred me. The things I have done, and seen, and had done to me, have left scars. Both visible and invisible." With that, Draco released her hands, letting them drop to her sides, before turning and grabbing his shirt, whipping it on and fastening the buttons. Hurrying into the bathroom, Draco turned on the faucet, splashing cold water upon his face, before hurriedly picking leaves out of his hair. Water falling off of his face and spinning through the air, shimmering like crystals, Draco lifted his face up to the mirror, his arms gripping either side of the sink. The torment he felt as the memories crashed over him like waves were clearly visible in his mercury eyes; his soul looked like it was screaming, trying to break free, slamming its fists against the glass of his eyes, attempting to escape the memories and agony in his body. His hair plastered to his face, Draco closed his eyes, drawing deep, calming breaths, attempting to draw his mask back into place.

The back of his neck prickling, Draco snapped his eyes open, aware that someone was watching him. Staring into the mirror, Draco could see Ginny standing in the doorway, the emerald green dress draped over her body teasingly, her face showing signs of worry and sorrow. As his sharp mercury eyes met her soft brown ones, he saw her lips move, forming the word 'hey'. Feeling his expression soften and the torment melt away, Draco relaxed his death grip on the counter, the blood in his knuckles rushing back. Draco turned to face the redhead, his lips beginning to form a hello back, before he felt her arms wrap around him.

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to upset you." Draco felt Ginny's breath as she spoke the words onto his chest.

Draco bent his face to her hair, smiling a bit as he breathed in the scent of sunshine and honeysuckle, and said, "It's not your fault. I've just had those words spinning around in my mind for weeks and weeks. It actually feels good to get them out."

"You can tell me anything, you know that right?" Ginny whispered, her hands on his chest next to her face.

Draco felt his head nod numbly before he grabbed her hand and they were heading downstairs to dinner, where most of the Order would be eating now. At the bottom of the stairs, they silently walked to the down the hallway to the kitchen. The door was closed, but even twenty feet away, Draco could hear the Order inside, it's members eating and drinking, laughing and talking, dishes and silverware and goblets clinking and chiming, and above all the noise, Draco could hear Mrs. Weasley yelling at the twins to quit whatever kind of mischief they were creating at the moment.

Inhaling deeply and filling his lungs with air, Draco steeled himself, giving Ginny's hand one last squeeze before dropping it and reluctantly pushing open the door to the kitchen. Draco hated public events, he remembered being herded into a room by his father and shown off to a bunch of Death Eaters. He remembered rubbing elbows with the faces of evil, the stench of corruption and death wafting off of them. Most clearly, he remembered the claustrophobia that would set in as he was forced to stand in the crowded room, and that only Blaise would save him, would be willing to save him. And then, suddenly, Blaise wasn't at the parties anymore, wasn't at school, wasn't there to save him, and Draco was thrusted even deeper into the cold world of evil.

Images, dark and gruesome, swam through Draco's vision as he pushed open the door, and he was suddenly surrounded by death and gore, Voldemort's face swimming in and out of view. Draco pulled himself through the images, trying to break through to the surface, to breathe. Suddenly, Draco had broken through to the air, and, discreetly swallowing gulps of water, Draco confidently walked into the room, sure that his mask hadn't slipped and no one was suspicious.

Draco strode into the room, carefully surveying it, before walking towards two empty seats in the midst of the mass of red hair. Seating himself after Ginny, Draco lounged back in the wooden chair; looking to his right he saw Fred, and George beyond him. The two looked like they had halted whatever chaos as soon as Draco had sauntered through the door. Both men had piled an assortment of food on their plates; Fred passed Draco a bowl, looking into it, he saw it was some kind of casserole, unidentifiable greens sticking out from the mass of swirling yellows and oranges. Deciding to be polite, Draco took a small serving before passing it on to Ginny.

The event was lively, full of chatter and small talk, of pranks and jokes by way of the Weasley twins. Draco had to admit that Mrs. Weasley was an excellent cook, even the casserole had been a delicacy. While Draco's pallet had been used to fine lobster and rich cuisine, he immediately knew that he preferred the Order's style of cooking. It wasn't a feast, but everyone ate. The room was crowded, but Draco didn't feel like he was drowning. And not once did he wish Blaise were there to save him.

Ginny and Draco walked up the stairs, not touching, but certainly closer than a pair of strictly platonic friends should be. Draco knew no one would notice. The entire Order was happy and full, their glutton clouding their minds and eyes. Most had headed off to bed, long ago. Draco and Ginny had decided to leave the rest of the Order downstairs after a couple reminders from Draco that the team would start practice early the next morning, no matter how late it's members stayed up.

As they reached their room, both immediately collapsed on their separate beds, complying to the unspoken agreement they had made to keep their relationship out of the Headquarters, and their bedroom.

As Draco dozed off that night, he recalled the day's events, the sun sparkling in Ginny's hair as she moved deftly through the trees, avoiding all spells Draco sent hurtling towards her, appearing unscathed as mayhem, fiery ashes and charred leaves, rained down from the sky.

***

Okay, I know that chapter was shorter than the last, but I had trouble with it for some reason. Next chapter is going to be awesome and explosive, with tons of training, spells, weapons, and Ginny and Draco. So hey, if that sounds good to you, REVIEW!

Special thanks to ALL THE PEOPLE who reviewed last time! I got so many!

-blosom95

-blockhead77

-music24601

-SevaraJaszminePotterWeasley

-nina10966

-frust-sheep

-GoddessOfTheNight3

-Nosebleed Nonsense (supermegafoxyawesomehot. Haha)

-megz93

So anyway, I'll probably wait for the same amount of reviews (that's nine, people) for this chapter as the last, just because I'm greedy and like to see how my work is. I know it wasn't nearly as awesome as the last, but hey, im sure you can deal.

Also, as a special treat, here's the prologue to a new fanfic I'm working on in my head. It's DracoxGinny, but probably going to be a bit more tragic. The name is probably going to be _Beautiful Melodies_ And I'm not actually posting it until I'm finished with this one. Which will be a very long time as I have so mush in store for _A Phoenix Fears the Ashes_, it might even take years! (Gosh, I hope not..)

Life is a beautiful melody

With its sweet, supple notes of sorrow chiming through the air

Its chorus, singing of torment and despair

The lyrics jumbled and mixed, understanding impossible until the song is finished

And a merry humming underneath it all, white noise, inexplicably happy for a few, sacred moments.

Before, with the final, mortal tune, the last note sings and fades into oblivion.

So anyway, REVIEW, and I'll update and present you with Chapter 16 soon.


	16. Dreams and Reality

Hey guys, I'm SUPER sorry about the two week wait! I've been so, so busy and this chapter required a lot of research. You have no idea how many YouTube videos I watched about martial arts. (I like to keep this fic as close to reality as possible when it comes to the fighting they do) So I hope this chapter was worth the wait, things are getting pretty mysterious!

-Katy

***

Draco was sitting on the beach, the golden sun warming his face and torso as the cool water beat onto the shore, a dull hushing sound soothing his ears. He leaned backwards on his hands, the smooth sand feeling like silk. As his hands moved, skimming over the silken sand, he felt a rougher object under his fingers. Picking it up, he saw it was a sand dollar, its face pure white, and the petal-like pattern smooth on its back. Draco took a quick glance at his surroundings. The sand was an ivory shade, moving in shallow valleys and slight hills, gently formed by the wind. He was surrounded by ebony rocks, a cliff face behind him. It had been weathered by the years, broken and beaten down into a rocky overhang, ending suddenly, almost like turning a sharp corner, and running into the smooth, glassy water below. As he glanced around, taking the sight in, his eyes brushed on another figure.

He was nearly fifty feet away, the sun to his back, casting shadows over his features. Even so, Draco could tell he was wearing jeans and a dark shirt. The shirt hung around his body loosely, comfortably. The figure took a step, its walk full of pride, but lacking of arrogance, the walk of a wounded soldier, a survivor. In his entire life, Draco had only known one person to accomplish this walk.

Blaise.

Draco felt a grin creep across his normally stone face. Standing, Draco brushed the sand off his clothes before he began to walk towards Blaise, meeting him in the middle. As the silhouette drew closer, Draco saw Blaise's features emerge from the shadows, his slanted eyes the color of a sepia photo, his russet skin looking like a sunset reflected over a calm, steady river. High cheekbones prominent on his thin face, contrasting with his broad mouth.

As he reached Blaise, Draco reached out his hand, embracing his best friend in a bear hug. The two walked over towards the rocks, sitting down upon them, staring out at the azure sky.

Draco's ears were met with the rumble of his best friends voice, a sound he'd thought was lost to the world. "You look happier, you're actually smiling. I haven't seen you genuinely smile since we were kids. It's a bit… unnerving." Blaise said honestly; Draco had always enjoyed Blaise's bluntness.

Draco heard his own laugh ring out, echoing off of the rocks. "I guess that's because I am. I did what we had always dreamed of, Blaise. I quit the Death Eaters and ran away. I joined the Order and started helping them prepare to fight the Dark Lord. And," Draco added, almost hesitantly. He wasn't sure he wanted to say the words out loud, "I fell in love."

Silence met this; Draco turned his head to see his best friend trying to contain his laughter. As Blaise finally couldn't hold it in anymore, he said, "I'm sorry, Draco. I just never thought I'd hear you say those words. You've always been so cynical and jaded. What girl can possibly put up with your negativity and sarcasm?"

Smirking, Draco said, "Some people think my sense of humor is charming, Blaise. And since I left my home, I've found that I'm not as negative, surprisingly. What about you? You were never the happy sort, either."

"Yea, well, as it turns out, being dead doesn't really put a damper on things."

Draco turned his head in astonishment, his eyes meeting Blaise's laughing ones. "So, heaven, angels, all that… it exists?" He asked, his voice hesitant, a trace of fear in it.

Blaise gave a short, amused laugh, "Not that I know of. This is my heaven." Blaise gestured around him with his hands.

Draco didn't doubt it for a second. A deserted beach was exactly Blaise's style; he'd never been one for meaningless gossip and friendships, Blaise had been a loner until he had met Draco, one of the only people on Earth, or in heaven apparently, whom Blaise could stand.

"I noticed you never answered my question, Draco." Blaise interrupted his train of thought, snatching him back to the present. "Who's the girl?"

"Ginny Weasley." Draco said, a bit sheepishly; he didn't know why he should be bashful, after all, Blaise was dead. Draco felt himself pale as that thought crossed his mind; it was a hard truth to face, to believe.

Draco saw the smile from Blaise's face fade. His friends' eyes turned from laughing to somber in seconds; Draco had seen Blaise control his emotions before, changing them in split seconds, usually to avoid trouble with the Death Eaters, but this wasn't what he was doing. Blaise dropped his eyes, "Listen, Draco… There's something I need to tell you…" Blaise stopped, apparently unsure how to continue.

Sensing the emergency of the situation, Draco tensed, "What is it Blaise?"

"It's about the night I "

Draco sat up, the sun shining on his face, his legs tangled in sheets. He was at Headquarters. The birds were singing, whistling almost, a carefree beat, Ginny's red hair was sparkling in the sun as she turned over in her sleep, moaning softly under her breath; it was a new day, practice day, and yet, Draco couldn't shake the cold embrace he had acquired ever since Blaise's tone had changed. He couldn't shake the sense that he was missing a crucial piece of the puzzle.

Noticing that the sun was still low on the horizon, telling him it was around six in the morning. Draco stretched, yawning and rumpling his hair before he stood and padded over to Ginny's bed, trying to gently shake her awake. Draco grinned as he realized she was going to be stubborn this morning. Smirking to himself, Draco picked her up and threw her over his shoulder, her dead weight light under his toned muscles.

Draco padded over to the bathroom and plopped Ginny in the tub, resting his hand threateningly on the shower knob before saying, a note of warning in his voice, "Ginny, time to wake up. Quick, before I turn the shower on."

Draco watched with satisfaction as Ginny's brown eyes flew open, alarm evident in them, right before he twisted the knob, water raining down on the girl. Draco laughed to himself as he turned and headed into the other room, Ginny's angry screams echoing out the door.

Downstairs, Draco hurriedly spooned mouthfuls of eggs into his mouth, Ginny's heated gaze causing goose bumps to rise on his neck as she glared at him from across the table, her hair pulled up into a careless, messy bun, red tendrils falling free. Draco heard footsteps behind him, two pairs, and didn't have to turn to know it was the Weasley twins.

"Blimey, Ginny what happened to you?" Fred said, teasing evident in his voice.

Draco watched as Ginny moved her deadly gaze away from him and aimed it above Draco's head, where the twins stood behind him. "Him. He decided to stick me in the shower while I was still half asleep."

Draco felt the curious gazes of Fred and George fix pointedly at the back of his head. He quickly turned and explained, "She wouldn't wake up. So I dropped her in the shower and turned on the water. Her shrieks of protest were quite funny, really. Didn't you hear them?" Draco took a bite of his biscuit.

The Weasley twins' expressions melded from confusion to smirks of pleasure in seconds. Draco felt an internal sigh of relief. "No, I'm sorry to say we missed that." Fred said, as his twin cut in.

"Well, we probably couldn't hear it over Charlie's snoring!" George said, yelling the last two words and turning to aim them upstairs. Turning back towards the group, he continued, "He sounds like a herd of elephants "

" I was thinking more like a whale ", Fred offered.

" Stampeding through a forest!" George finished.

"But, I'm sorry to say, this is going to be one awful day for you, Draco." Fred said, abruptly switching from what kind of creature Charlie sounded like to their former topic.

Draco felt suspicion cross his face, "Why is that?"

"You've never been on the receiving end of Ginny's wrath, have you?" Fred said, his face worried.

"Best to steer clear of him today, don't want to get killed in the crossfire." George added, gulping down a bowl of porridge, the meal running down his face.

Draco turned his head in time to see Ginny, her hair wild and tangled, flash a malicious grin at Draco, before she stood and headed outside for the practice field.

Smirking to himself, Draco spooned the rest of his breakfast into his mouth before wiping his lips off on his sleeve, silently pushing back his chair, and slinking out the door after her. Stepping into the bright sunlight, Draco padded through the soft, dewy grass, slinking around the corners of Headquarters, the practice field quickly coming into view. Draco couldn't see Ginny, but he knew that this meant nothing. She could easily see him. Strolling over to the side of the house, Draco laid his hand onto the side, watching quietly as light burst from the edges, outlining the invisible door.

The door popped out of the wall, materializing, and slid backwards to reveal the weapons room. Draco stepped through the door, into the darkly lit room, surrounded by its rows and shelves, stolen weapons neatly displayed, glinting in the sunlight peering through the doorway. A silver glinting flashed in Draco's periphery and he felt a quaking in his knees, before he steeled himself and walked towards the other weapons, examining them until he found his ebony daggers. In daylight, he recognized them as Butterfly Swords, knives a bit shorter than his forearm. They were still sheathed, untouched. The silvery moon and golden sun inlaid on the leather shone gently in the sunlight, smiling up at him.

Draco reached out, picking up the buttery leather and feeling it between its fingers. As he touched it, his mind flashed back to his dream, of the white, smooth sand, so soft it felt like the delicate, velvety leather he was holding in his palms, cloaking weapons so deadly.

Draco set the weapons back down, reminding himself that he had work to do. Silently, he padded over to the door, the whip glistening maliciously in his periphery, as he closed the door and exited to prepare the practice field.

"Okay, today I'm going to try to teach you a mixture of defensive and offensive positions with both your weapons and your fists." Draco said, facing the team. The sun was shining brightly; it was just past seven in the morning. The grass still held a hint of dew as wooden posts and targets, dummies made of sacks and oak, sat on it, still and dull in the light. "Your fists are your last resort." Draco's voice rang out, clear and fresh, in the crisp early morning air. "Obviously, your wand is your first. If someone unarms you and takes your wand away, pull out your weapon. Over the years, I've learned that a weapon, when in the hands of a skilled user, can be just as deadly, if not more so, as a wand. If, by some ill-fated chance, your weapon is taken away too, then all you will have left is your fists. And they'd have to kill you to take those away." Draco held back a small smile as a chorus of chuckles greeted his last sentence. "Your fists aren't going to be as deadly or destructive as a knife, sword, or bow, but they can help fend off an attacker and be useful in offensive combat. Of course, you need to know how to use them." Turning his face to look at the more reckless of his group, the Weasley brothers, he said, "You can't go in swinging blindly like you're in a bar brawl. You need to be skilled and trained, to be able to see ways to manipulate your opponents weakness and strategize to your advantage."

Draco turned away from the group, feeling Ginny's deathly gaze on his back, and walked over to one of the posts. The post, or wooden dummy as trained martial artists called it, had three wooden arms sticking out at different angles, representing various positions an opponent could have. As Draco placed himself in front of it, he thought idly to himself that maybe he shouldn't teach Ginny how to destroy him using knives while she was in such a bad mood.

Taking a deep breath and exhaling it, focusing his mind on the dummy and only it, whipping his mind clean of every other thought; Draco struck his fist out at it, before rapidly and skillfully blasting at it with his fists. He knew that every blow he made held the power to break human bones. His fists were a blur of flesh color, zooming towards every square inch of the dummy he could meet, before he threw his right fist at it and, bluffing, twisted it at the last second, missing, and using his body to follow through with the motion, bringing his left foot up to kick it over.

Ginny was standing in the grass, the sticky feel of dewy grass on her sandaled feet. Anger was flowing off of her body in waves of heat, and she was purposely aiming him at Draco. As he turned his smug face from her and moved towards the dummy, she felt the urge to hit him.

And then, Draco was striking and spinning. His moves so quick it was hard to keep track of how many hits he made on the dummy. His fists were slashing through the air, one barely having impacted with the dark wood of the dummy before the other joined it, one after another, in repeated, nonstop, tireless succession. Ginny felt her mouth hanging agape, but couldn't focus enough to pull herself together.

Then, his fist missed. Ginny felt smug triumph rise in her chest as she thought that even Draco messed up sometimes. Then, as she watched his left leg swing through the air and hit the dummy with such extreme force, it was thrown to the ground; she felt her triumph sink slowly to the pits of her stomach.

Maybe she wouldn't hit him, after all.

Draco turned from the sight of the heavy, wooden dummy lying peacefully on the ground to see his team staring at him in awe. Even Ginny's hateful gaze had been wiped clean and replaced with astonishment. Grinning, he thought to himself, I'm not even done yet.

Draco pulled the dummy back upwards, his muscles straining, it really was heavy. As he righted it, Draco reached towards his belt, his arms crossing in front of his body, where the two knives sat. Drawing them, they flashed through the air across his body, forming sharp, glittering black streaks that reflected the bright sun, leaving a giant X, bright on top of the dark red, behind his eyelids when he blinked.

Flipping the dagger in his right hand absentmindedly, Draco stared at the dummy, his mind calculating, eyes cunning, taking in every detail of it, before plunging the blades into the earth on either side of him. Might as well show them everything that I can do, Draco thought to himself as he dug into his pockets for a strip of cloth and pressed it gently against his eyes.

Tying it firmly and double knotting the cloth to assure that it would not fall off, Draco bent down and retrieved his knives, without searching, without hesitation.

Draco launched himself at the spot where he knew the dummy sat. Slicing a dagger through the air, he felt it connect with the wood, the razor-edged blade carving through the dummy with ease. His sight red with the inside of his eyelids, Draco followed up with a slash from his left hand, before driving the knife in his right hand into the dummy and quickly pulling it out. Bending his knees slightly, Draco sent a barrage of slices at the dummy, his left hand slicing one way, while his right slashed in the opposite direction. As he focused on the last moment he had seen the dummy, the final image he had seen of it, he mentally saw himself cutting it, as if he wasn't blindfolded. His feet twisting as he slunk around the dummy, he smelled the dewy grass underneath him. Draco slashed one of his knives upwards, hitting the chest of the dummy, before sending his body spinning through the air, both knives simultaneously slashing through the wood. As one of his final moves, Draco stepped backwards from the dummy, raising the dagger in his right hand and sending it whistling through the air, before hearing it thud into the wooden dummy's head, where he knew it sat.

Prowling towards the dummy, his eyes still blind, Draco stood what he knew was barely a foot away before raising his blade and pointing it to where he knew the neck of the dummy would sit. As he drew the blade across it, slitting the makeshift throat, he reached his right hand towards his eyes, tearing off the blindfold. As his eyes adjusted to the light, the ringing of the blade running across wood sang through the air, the sound of the blindfold nestling in the grass just barely audible.

Turning, he once again saw the astonished faces of his teammates. As he ran his eyes across the faces of the group, he noticed that Ginny seemed to be trying hard to hide her admiration. Chuckling to himself, Draco drew his wand, readying himself for his final attack, demonstrating the most lethal way to kill an opponent.

As Draco drew his knives, Ginny felt annoyance in the pits of her stomach. Of course he will be able to fight an unguarded, unmoving dummy armed with two daggers, as Ginny thought this to herself, she couldn't help but to notice that the voice sounded petty. Ginny hated petty people.

Grinding her teeth, self-hatred welling up in her heart, Ginny watched critically as Draco stood in front of the dummy, his eyes shrewd and squinting, almost as if he were trying to quickly memorize every grain of wood. Suddenly, as if having made up his mind about what he wanted to do, Draco bent his knees, his hands thrusting the daggers smoothly into the grassy, dew-covered ground.

As irritation began to flicker across her features, it was wiped away almost instantly at the sight of Draco withdrawing a strip of cloth from the worn pocket of his jeans. Doubt flooded Ginny's mind at the sight of Draco carefully tying the cloth around his head, covering his eyes, forming a blindfold.

Ginny saw Draco lightly step backward, his feet silent on the soft, wet grass, the green as blinding as his hair as the sun reflected off of it. Draco stood for a moment, as if he was once again memorizing the dummy, but Ginny knew he was recalling the image of it.

And then, he sprang, so fast Ginny nearly missed it, the black blades, held gracefully, yet so deadly in his hands, glinting in the sun. He was spinning, slashing and slicing at the dummy, his control and focus like that of an artist as he flings paint across a barren canvas. The light ringing of blades was hanging in the air, an eternal and seemingly never-ending song sung in soprano. His movements, so entirely wild as his hands flung razor sharp blades through the air with such reckless abandon, had a controlled focus beneath their surface.

He was flying through the air, his hands and arms a blur, black flashing through the blue sky. And then, suddenly, he stopped without warning, becoming so still so swiftly, Ginny idly wondered how it was that he hadn't toppled over. The cloth still tied around his eyes, Draco slowly raised his right hand, bringing it back with both care and precision, and then whipped it straightforward, letting the dagger fly straight and true. Ginny watched, her brown eyes wide with amazement and following the dagger as it embedded itself into what would be the forehead of the dummy.

You've got to be kidding me. The thought echoed endlessly in Ginny's mind, reverberating and bouncing off the sides of her skull. Ginny felt sure now that her mouth was hanging ajar, that she was gaping, but she couldn't overcome her astonishment enough to care. She watched, her eyes glued to Draco's lithe figure, as he slunk towards the dummy, reaching his knife up to where the dummy's throat would be and tore of his blindfold as he slit the pretend throat.

Beneath her astonishment, Ginny felt her anger slowly fade, slipping back into the unknown and unexplored depths of her body, slamming the door behind it.

Draco looked at the astonishment on his teammates faces, hiding his amusement under his mask. They each had a similar expression of disbelief etched on their features. Well, it is impressive, I guess, if you haven't been training for your entire life, Draco thought to himself as he turned from the group and drew his wand. Aiming it at the dummy, Draco let the _Incendio_ spell fly from the tip of his wand, setting fire to the wood, and turned back to his team.

The red flames cast an eerie, orange shadow onto the faces of the team as they listened to Draco's next words. Standing before them, his wand gripped in one hand, his daggers near his feet, the orange of the flames turning his hair a shade the color of a sunset, Draco said, "Now you see that although you can train physically as hard as you want, your wand is always easiest. This doesn't mean, though, that when facing a Death Eater armed with a wand, that you stand no chance. When trained properly, you can become better than a wand, faster than a word and jet of light, and more damaging than a curse."

Draco paused, letting his words sink in, waiting for his teammates to recall the images of him throwing fists and daggers and spells at the dummy. Then, he continued, "Now, we are going to work on your punches and kicks, in order to develop control and precision before we begin handling the deadly tools you stole two days ago." Glancing at the sky, Draco saw it was barely past eight; the day was passing by slowly, almost like molasses.

Draco sent each member of his team to a different dummy and walked around, teaching them each, individually, the basics of throwing a punch with precision and accuracy. The Weasley boys, Draco had known, had already learned how to fight, but he had to clean up their technique. Their methods belonged in a drunken bar fight, not in a face-off against Death Eaters. The brothers had taught their younger sister, Draco learned. Ginny hit like they did, swinging aimlessly and without focus, but it was a step up from Tonks. Tonks was an ex-Auror, but Aurors weren't trained in physical combat. Draco had had to show Tonks how to curl her hands up in a proper fist. Lupin, on the other hand, remembered perfectly how to fight. He wasn't anywhere near the standards Draco expected before they went to fight, but his style was neat and precise. Draco suspected he had picked these techniques up somewhere up at Hogwarts with Sirius Black and James Potter, but said nothing.

Draco worked his team hard, teaching them how to kick and punch, how to blow and receive blows to minimize damage. He walked between stations and dummies, standing for a few moments as he observed the progress of his team. He didn't let them stop pounding into the wood until two in the afternoon, well after time for lunch.

"Alright. Stop. You need to eat." Draco said loudly. The grass had dried up long ago, the dew disappearing as the sun topped the trees. His team was sweating, their mouths dry and stomachs empty. They had been running on nothing but their breakfast and the energy they had stored in the last two days for more than four hours. He knew it was past time for them to stop, but he hadn't wanted to reward them until he had seen improvement. Surprisingly, no one had complained at the extreme pace they were doing things. He assumed it was because they were eager to get out into the field and kick some Death Eater butt. Draco smirked at the last thought.

Draco led his team back indoors to make sandwiches. He knew they would enjoy the brief respite from the sweltering heat. Draco walked into Headquarters, his team following slowly behind him. As they made sandwiches, Draco watched each of his teammates carefully remove their black leather gloves, stretching and flexing their fingers. He was glad he had thought to steal the gloves at the last second, or they would have pounded their hands into bloody stubs.

Draco quickly spread mayonnaise on a piece of bread and piled a few pieces of unidentified meat on top of it, stuffing it in his mouth. His team was quickly gorging themselves on sandwiches and chips, taking swigs of water, their faces red and coated with moisture. Tonks had wandered to a corner of the room and was standing under a fan, her feverish face held upwards as it spun, her purple hair flowing back in sweat-coated strands.

Brushing crumbs off his hands, Draco stood, walking to the sink and filling a glass with tap water. He quickly drank it, taking large swallows. He knew that his team was dehydrated; even he was and he hadn't been working out constantly for four hours. It wouldn't do to have his team collapse from dehydration on the first day of practice. Draco told his team to fill up cups of water before they returned to practice and bring them with them, if they ran out of water, they would refill it with the _aguamenti _spell.

Draco leaned against the counter, waiting patiently for his team to finish eating and refilling glasses. Tonks finally pulled herself away from the fan long enough to fill her cup. Draco let his team rest for around five minutes, Tonks returned to her fan while Lupin collapsed in a chair, lying his head on the table, and the Weasley's slumped on the floor, not bothering to find a seat.

Draco left the room suddenly, letting his team lie on the floor as he stepped outside. He couldn't help but feel guilty, and slightly lazy, that his team was unable to move while he was still full of energy, if not slightly parched. Draco walked around the house to the practice field and rearranged the dummies, levitating them with his wand, dragging a few around, until he had erased the circular formation he had used while walking around and instructing individually. Now, the dummies formed a sort of semi circle, with one in the middle and the other seven surrounding it. Draco had decided to take a different course of action.

"Okay, this is a stunning blow that I'm teaching you", Draco said as he rammed the flat side of his hand into the dummy's neck, just below where his head should be. Turning, he saw his team copy his move in unison, simultaneously executing the technique perfectly. Draco wiped his brow, sweat making it slick. "This stunning blow will actually knock your opponent over. When performed correctly, it cuts off blood flow to the brain momentarily, giving you the advantage. You can also use it as a kick", Draco said as he whipped his foot upwards, hitting the wood with the flat of his foot with a resounding smack.

His team had greatly improved now that he wasn't making them punch repeatedly without purpose. The change in technique had helped some, teaching his team specific moves now that they had improved their methods of punching and kicking. Many of them were starting to show some promise, Lupin especially, but Draco knew that they would have to go through many more days of grueling training before they were ready to be dispatched to hunt Death Eaters.

The sun was beginning to set, painting the sky with brilliant colors of pink and orange and red, but they still had a two more hours of practice left.

"Lupin, come here. I need you for my next demonstration on blocking attacks." Lupin stepped forward, the sunset casting a strange glow on his weary features as he neared Draco. "Okay, Lupin I need you to try to punch me."

As Lupin's fist shot towards Draco's face, Draco caught the fist in one hand, while hitting the crease of the elbow with the flat of his other hand. Lupin's arm bent from the force of the blow and Draco quickly spun him around, pulling him into a headlock.

"When I hit the inside of Lupin's elbow, I directed my blow at a pressure point. That is why I could easily manipulate him into the headlock", Draco explained to his team, their eyes glued to his face, hanging onto every word like each was a drop of water and they were wandering around in the desert, searching in vain for an oasis.

Draco made a motion with his hand, letting Lupin know to hit him again. As Lupin's fist flashed outwards towards Draco's face, Draco used his left hand to push Lupin's fist away, while twisting his right hand into a fist and striking it into Lupin's elbow. As Draco struck the pressure point in Lupin's elbow with his knuckle, the man's elbow buckled, giving Draco the advantage. Draco quickly twisted the wrist he still held behind Lupin's back and held his head down with one hand.

Releasing Lupin Draco explained exactly what he had done to him, "As Lupin's fist neared my face, I kept my eyes not on his fist, but on his forearm and shoulder, that way I could see every potential move he made. When his fist got to be around half a foot from my face, I pushed it away with my left hand, crossing my right arm across my body and clenching it into a fist in the same movement. I pointed one knuckle out, in order to hit the pressure point correctly. The pressure point I was aiming for," Draco said as he flipped Lupin's forearm to show his team, pointing at the spot, "can be found an inch across from the elbow bone. As my knuckle dug into the point, it caused Lupin's elbow to bend, giving me power over his arm. Remember, I never let go of that wrist, so when his arm bent, it gave me the perfect advantage and I twisted his arm behind his back. And, trust me, that position is a hard one to escape."

The sun had completely disappeared, leaving them in darkness. Draco grabbed his wand, muttering _Lumos Maxima_. Light flew from the tip of his wand, illuminating the field as if it were daylight. Draco turned back to his team, their faces pale and pinched under the glaring light. Draco idly wondered if they would survive this week, or if he would slowly work them to death, dragging them to their graves.

"Okay team. This is the last exercise and all I want you to do is show me what we've learned."

Draco walked to each station, watching quietly as the exhausted member punched at the dummy, their feet slashing through the air as practiced, their eyes tired. Then, he would toss a punch at them and, thankfully, more often than not they repeated the stunning and hold techniques he had taught them. They messed up occasionally, but Draco knew that this was more due to exhaustion, instead of lack of retaining memory. Draco knew that his team could learn quickly; even the Weasley twins were able to master most of the moves he had taught them that day.

At last, Draco dismissed his team, standing on the vast, dark lawn as they dragged their weary bodies towards the illuminated house. Draco lifted his gaze to the stars, wondering if Blaise was sitting on that lonely beach, staring down at him, a faint smile on his broad lips. Draco knew that Blaise would approve of what he was doing, even though they hadn't gotten to talk about it in his dream. His mind wandering back to the dream, Draco speculated what Blaise had been trying to tell him. Recalling the urgency in his best friends voice, Draco felt chills run down his spine. _It's about the night I_The night he what? The night he fell off the Astronomy tower and almost broke his neck trying to follow Draco as he snuck out? The night he watched his father die? The night he helped Lucius and Draco kill an innocent family? The night he was forced to torture the Auror Clarke until he spat information from his bloodied mouth? Or the night he… died? There were too many nights. Draco pulled his hair in frustration; he knew there was something Blaise was trying to tell him, but he couldn't see what it was. It was like knowing that there was a solid, brick wall two feet away, but not being able to see through the thick, black veil covering his eyes.

"What's wrong, Draco?" Ginny's soft voice interrupted his thoughts.

Clearing his throat, Draco tore his eyes from the sky, loosening his grip on his hair, and turned to face Ginny. He didn't want to scare her. If he told her the truth, he might have to tell her about what he'd done, how he'd killed Blaise. And yet, he couldn't bring himself to lie to her. "I had a nightmare of sorts last night."

"What was it about?" Ginny asked, her voice empty of any sort of curiosity or prying, she meant well.

"Blaise. I killed him, Ginny." Draco said, his voice cracking on the last few words as he collapsed into her arms, his legs giving way to gravity.

***

I hope you liked it and it was worth the wait, but, hey, if it wasn't, tell me! So last time exactly 9 people reviewed, as requested! Let's see if we can do it again! Thank you to all who reviewed:

-GoddessoftheNight3

-Goldenwolfeyes

-Music24601

-Dracoins-Eridani

-noonal

-blosom95

-Frust-sheep

-pretty little panic attack (awesome name, by the way)

-nina10966

Thanks for reading, all, and I'll be sure to post sooner next time. Sorry for the wait!

-Katy


	17. Hindsight

Hey, here's an update!

Disclaimers: JKR owns all. Yellowcard owns lyrics to View From Heaven. Do NOT try any of the martial arts moves in my story, as it will most likely result in pain and possible lawsuits.

-Katy

Feel your fire,

When its cold in my heart

And things sorta start

Remindin' me of my last night with you

I only need one more day

Just one more chance to say

I wish that I had gone up with you too

And I'm sure the view from heaven

Beats the hell out of mine here

And if we all believe in heaven

Maybe we'll make it through one more year

I hope that all is well in heaven

Cuz it's all shot to hell down here

I hope that I find you in heaven

Cuz I'm so...

Lost without you down here

You won't be coming back

And I didn't get to say goodbye

I really wish I got to say goodbye

-Yellowcard, View From Heaven

***

Draco spent the next few days tirelessly working next to his team, teaching them progressively advanced moves and ways to stun and kill an enemy. He woke up early one morning, in the moments of the morning when even the sun was having trouble awakening, and stretched, trying to chase away the sleep that threatened to reclaim him. He was exhausted after working with his team for nearly fourteen hours a day, endlessly working his body and mind, teaching his team how to kill cleanly and effectively.

Draco glanced over to the dark silhouette to his right. Ginny knew about the darkest moment of his life, knew every detail about the night he had killed Blaise. His mind flashed back to the night he had told her, four days ago, and the memory swallowed him completely, engulfing him and erasing everything else completely.

**

"Blaise. I killed him, Ginny," Draco said as the weight of what he had done crashed down upon him, once again, his legs giving out, unable to bear the burden of the world on his shoulders. Draco felt his knees hit the ground with a sickening thud, the sound muffled by the blood rushing in his ears. Soft, yet sturdy, velvet arms enveloped him, comforting him.

"In your dream, Draco?" Her soft voice asked, trying to solve his problems. He knew that she didn't want to know out of curiosity, or any other sick reason, but because she cared.

This knowledge was the only reason he told her the truth, instead of sliding his Malfoy mask back into place and agreeing that yes, it was a dream. "No, Gin, not in my dreams. Do you remember the time in my sixth year when I left school during break with Blaise and he didn't come back? And I walked around school telling that ridiculous, god awful story about how he moved to Durmstrang?" Draco asked, his voice breaking slightly; the story really had been awful, he'd been surprised when everyone had believed him.

Draco was relieved when Ginny let go of him. Though he missed the feel of her skin pressed against his, it wasn't the sort of story to be told while hugging. He knew Ginny could sense this, could sense that he didn't want to be touched while he remembered.

Ginny drew away, wrapping her arms around her legs as she rested her chin on her knees, a solemn expression sliding over her ever-present smile. Her hair was still pulled into the careless bun, locks falling around her face, framing it in an elegant way that Draco suspected only Ginny could accomplish in a baggy shirt and torn jeans.

Draco sat next to her, his hands flat on the ground, supporting his weight as he leaned back to stare at the stars, where he knew Blaise had to be. He had the urge to look down, to hide, but he couldn't, he owed Blaise this one last sign of respect. Draco took a deep breath, readying himself before he spoke,

As he spoke, his mind drifted to a different place and time, a completely separate world, one full to the brim of death and blood and torture.

"He had asked me not to go. We had been invited to a Death Eater ceremony, something we usually skipped for their lack of excitement and hors d'oeuvres. But I had insisted that we attend. It wasn't that I wanted to go; I hated the get-togethers more than he did, but Blaise had been acting out a lot, saying things against the Dark Lord that are better left unsaid. I had brought him, dragged him along, to the ceremony because I knew that the Dark Lord was getting agitated with him. Suspicious. I thought that if Blaise showed some sort of loyalty, it would ease their suspicion." Draco paused, breathing a short bitter laugh as he momentarily tore his gaze from the stars, looking down. His hair hung over his face, concealing his eyes, as the laugh escaped his lips. "I was trying to protect him."

Returning his mercury eyes to the sky, his heart filled with sadness, Draco continued as Ginny hung onto every word, scared to breathe for fear she would break the spell and Draco would retreat into his shell.

"Little did I know that dragging him to that meeting was possibly the worst thing I could have done," Draco continued, his voice filled with bitter venom. As he talked, his entire being returned to those moments, his mouth recounting what he was doing.

He walked into the dark dungeon, damp and humid with rainwater and who knew what else, torches casting an eerie glow on the hooded figures with their backs turned to him. He stepped into the room, his footsteps silent, and began to weave his way through the throng of bowing Death Eaters. Feeling Blaise's hesitation behind him, he turned, his mercury eyes connecting with Blaise's black ones, and gave a short, strong nod, telling Blaise to move. Blaise stood a moment longer, his black eyes only visible behind his skeletal white mask. His posture told Draco that he was uncomfortable, that this was the last thing he wanted to do. His dark eyes screamed in alarm, there was a little boy inside slamming on the dark glass, trying to escape, trying to run from the room. And then a door slammed closed on the young child and Blaise's eyes were cold and distant. Blaise slowly nodded his head back in resolve, turning to make his way slowly towards his place.

Draco continued elbowing his way through the crowd, knocking over the occasional lower Death Eater, knowing in the depths of his mind what would happen as he relived the moment. His body felt empty, numb, as if all living remnants had disappeared the first time Blaise had died. And now he was going to die again.

Draco sat on the ground, bowing obediently when the Dark Lord appeared, waiting as his heart pounded.

"Blaise Zabini. Rise" Draco heard the awful hissing of Voldemort form the words, sealing the fate of his best friend. Hate welled up in his heart, so intense, he hadn't known he could hate a human being so much. Then again, Voldemort wasn't human.

As Blaise rose, his feet steady on the uneven cobblestone, Draco struggled to move. He was being crushed, his voice unable to cry out, to stop his friend.

And then, he was suddenly back at Headquarters, staring up at the stars as his lips moved automatically, a flat, mechanical voice depicting all that had happened that night.

"Voldemort ordered him to kill…" Draco said, hesitating before he added the rest of the truth, "and rape a young witch, because her family was causing trouble for the Dark Lord. But Blaise had refused, he had said no, had told the Dark Lord to take his offer and shove it up his ass." Draco said, a small, genuine laugh escaping his lips as they turned up into a gentle smile.

Breathing out, Draco continued, his voice still flat and detached, but his mind firmly in the present as he stared into the sky as if searching for an answer to the inexplicable. "Voldemort didn't like being refused. And Bellatrix, well Bellatrix struck out at any one who dared talk back to her master. Bellatrix hit him with a Cruciatus before the Dark Lord ordered her back." Draco snorted, recalling an image of Bellatrix looking uncannily similar to a rabid pit bull. "The Dark Lord had... better plans in store for Blaise. I remember that there was a heavy silence, during which I suppose Bellatrix and her Master communicated using Occlumency. After a long pause, the Dark Lord's red, venomous eyes searched the room. And landed on me."

Draco held back a shiver, remembering the terrible feeling of being chilled to the bone with just one glance. "He called my name, ordering me to rise. And I obeyed, like the scared child I was. I was nearly a man, yet one word from that man had me shaking in fear. He made me walk to him, kneel before him, kiss the ground, before Bellatrix dropped a whip in front of me. I looked up and saw that Bellatrix was excited, her eyes were nearly crazy with anticipation. I knew then what they wanted from me and I wanted to turn back time. I wanted to stop the clock and return to the moments when Blaise was begging me not to make him go. But I couldn't, I knew. They wanted me to whip him. To death."

Draco felt wetness on his face as he continued to speak, he was crying, he knew, but thankfully his voice was still steady, "My mind had flashed back to all the happy moments Blaise and I had had together as I stared at that whip. It had practically been smirking as I stared at it. I had felt like it was telling me, 'Yes you finally found a friend, but now you have to kill him. You're going to be alone forever, Draco.' I had looked back up at the Dark Lord, words of defiance forming on my lips. But then my entire body erupted into bits of pain. It had felt like my entire body had been torn apart, but I could still feel it. It was the most pain I had ever felt. My body was writhing, shaking, trying to escape the curse, the agony, but I couldn't. I couldn't think, couldn't breathe. I had never felt pain like that, so pure and unadulterated. Somehow, I managed to turn my head far enough to see that it was my father. Lucius' face was red; I had never seen him that angry. His wand was pointed at me as he kept the curse on longer than it was customary. He was furious with me, nearly shaking with rage. When he had finally waved it off, I couldn't move. My entire body was trying to sink into the floor, to fall asleep. My mind was a clear slate, my voice had become raw."

Draco stopped talking for a moment, as if he had lost his voice again. "My father then told me that I would kill Blaise, or suffer his wrath for days until he killed me. I think the pain had driven me past insanity. It sure felt like it had. I don't know why I obeyed, he was already beating me nightly, extra pain would have been worth keeping Blaise alive." Draco heard Ginny's sharp intake of breath, she had guessed that Lucius had beaten Draco, but she had never asked. Now, here he was confirming her suspicions. Draco continued, "My mind was a wreck, a turmoil of disconnected thoughts and sounds. My father's words kept echoing in my head. I glanced over at Blaise, unsure what to do, and his eyes calmed me. Blaise had lost his parents at different times, that year. He had seen his father die. His eyes told me how depressed he had been and I felt like a fool for not realizing it. I had tried to help, but I had been at an utter loss as to what to do! I hadn't realized how deep his depression ran until it was too late." Draco's voice broke on the last few words as tears continued to roll down his face.

Draco felt his hands ball up into fists, tearing grass out of the ground, "I should have stopped it. I should have said no. But I didn't. I was a coward and I stood up and carried the whip to my best friend. I whipped him until his back was a bloody slab of meat, until he was unrecognizable, until he blacked out and died."

Draco was quiet again, for so long Ginny thought it was the end, but it wasn't. He continued, "The Death Eaters took his body from me, leaving me on the ground as my body violently rejected what I had done. I had tossed the whip away the moment Blaise's suffering had ended. Bellatrix had picked it up, wrapping it up in her sleeve, probably saving it for more use. The Death Eaters had dragged his body outside, so I lifted my exhausted off the floor and ran after them. I watched at the doorway as they threw his body on a huge fire, and turned around without a second look. I remember running towards the image of Blaise's mutilated body going up in flames. I stood there for hours, my tears trying desperately to extinguish the flames, until I was cried out and Blaise was no more.

"I spent the rest of my nights regretting that action, regretting that I hadn't tried harder to save Blaise, that I couldn't help him. I wished I could have endured my fathers Cruciatus, could have stood up for Blaise, but instead I was a coward and I paid dearly for it. I spent the rest of the year at Hogwarts walking around in a stupor, I didn't care about anything. I had become like Blaise. In hindsight, Blaise's depression was so obvious. The coming events, his death, were so obvious. I blamed myself for missing the clues. When summer had finally arrived, it wasn't a relief. I went back to beatings from my father and days spent trying to recuperate from them. And then, I suddenly got sick of it. I ran away from home and… well, you know the rest."

Draco stared at the stars, silence filling the air between him and them for a very long time. Finally, Ginny spoke, "It's not your fault, you know. I blamed myself for my rape, but then a wise man told me that it wasn't my fault. I had been overpowered and I couldn't have stopped it. You couldn't have stopped it Draco."

Draco nodded quietly but didn't take his eyes from the sky. He felt Ginny move beside him, hear the grass rustle gently, before he felt her press her lips quickly to his cheek. Draco heard her quiet footsteps rustle the grass and then, suddenly stop, Ginny's voice was quiet, almost as if she were speaking to herself, as she said, "Don't fear the past. The past is easy to outrun, it's a ghost. Fear forgetting the past, fear leaving the ones you love. Fear the future." And then, she was gone. She had left him alone outside, which was what he wanted.

Tilting his head back further, Draco focused his mercury eyes on the silver stars above, nestled comfortably in their velvety backdrop. As he stared up at the sparkling constellations, he remembered Blaise in his better times, when they were kids and knew none of the sorrow they had learned as they had grown up.

Images flashed before his eyes, playing over the starry sky. Blaise racing after the snitch as Draco flew behind him. Blaise helping Draco limp back up to the mansion after Draco had twisted his ankle from a nasty fall off the broom. Blaise holding a few dungbombs and grinning wickedly as Draco grabbed them and threw them at unsuspecting students. Blaise peeking around a corner as they tried to sneak out of their dorm. Blaise running after Draco and pulling him away from a brawl in a wizard pub. Blaise turning around and joining the same brawl after a man had called him a squib. The memories flitted past Draco like pages in a story book.

Draco stood from his place on the ground, sorrow and guilt making it hard for him to stand. The world felt as if it were weighing down upon him, pressing on his shoulders, waiting for him to give up and collapse. Draco smirked, let it press harder, he didn't give up easily.

Turning his face to the sky, his smirk dropped as he bade farewell to his best friend, "I never got to say goodbye Blaise. You did, sort of, but it wasn't the way it should have been. Life isn't fair, I've learned that. Hell, that's the summary to my childhood. I can't believe you're gone, Blaise. Some mornings I wake up and for a split second, just a tiny moment, I'm back at Hogwarts and you're snoring in the bed next to mine. And then, I fully wake up and realize the truth. But I bet the view from heaven beats the hell out of mine here. From where I'm standing, all I can see it destruction and violence. My life is full of violence. That's all there is. Even in trying to create peace, the only way I can do that is to teach more violence. It's an unending cycle, Blaise. It may never end. Sometimes I wish that I had been burned with you, it would be a lot easier than watching all the destruction down here. Everything's shot to hell down here. But I'm sure that up there in heaven, you can see the end of the destruction, some far off land that isn't war-torn. I hope I get to see you in the next lifetime, in heaven, Blaise, because I'm so, unbelievably lost without you down here. I know you won't be coming back, it's something I have to face, I guess. But I can still say goodbye. Goodbye, Blaise. I won't forget you my friend. And I'll hopefully see you in my dreams again and my memories. Until the next life, Blaise."

Draco raised a hand in farewell, his face to the stars, before he turned and walked away, his footsteps silent as he turned the corner and disappeared into the house, leaving the night and his guilt-ridden heart, behind.

***

Draco had had to wait two more days until Ginny extracted her revenge. He had known, from the moment the scowl didn't erase from her damp face, that she would seek vengeance. It was the type of person she was. It was the morning of day three of combat training, yesterday, and Draco had been dreaming dreams of red again, the color of Ginny's hair. His hand was reaching out to touch it, feel the silky smooth feeling, smell the honeysuckle and sunshine that Draco had come to relate to Ginny. As his long fingers stretched to capture it in his grasp, he heard:

"_This just in! Harry Potter and his friends were recently spotted in Kent. They appear to be safe and unharmed for the moment."_

Draco was jolted awake, grabbing his wand from under his pillow as he sat up and turned around in his bed, searching for the source. His heart was pounding, head throbbing, adrenaline racing in his veins from the sudden awakening. Draco turned around to see Ginny standing in a corner of the room, her hair falling over her shoulders, as Potterwatch blasted from the radio on the desk.

After the Weasley twins had joined the Inferno, they had quit Potterwatch, but the radio program lived on, directed by Lee Jordan and his motley crew of guest speakers. Just then, Lee continued saying, _"Keep the brave trio in your thoughts as they battle against the Dark Lord singlehandedly, and tune in next time to Potterwatch. The Password will be Ashes." _

The radio then made a loud click and all that was left was static rumbling loudly into the room. Ginny smirked as she clicked it off and started pulling on clothes. Draco felt irritation bubbling up in his stomach, the last thing he needed to be awoken to was news of Harry Potter and then to be told that Potter was battling the Dark Lord singlehandedly, like no one else was helping Scar Head. What a load of crap, Draco thought as he pulled the covers back and got out of bed, storming towards the bathroom.

Draco splashed cold water on his face and brushed his teeth with such vigor, it seemed as if he were trying to rub away all thoughts of his rival using his toothbrush. Draco then left the bathroom, closing the door harshly behind him, before throwing on a pair of jeans and a light blue shirt, and stomping down the stairs. As he ran to the kitchen, he felt as if he could hear Ginny giggling, three floors above.

As Draco shoveled food into his mouth, he shot daggers at anyone who entered the kitchen door. Charlie and Bill walked in first, paling slightly when they saw the glare Draco was shooting at all living things. Charlie grabbed a chair, ignoring Draco's glare, and filled a bowl with cereal and milk, while Bill edged around the kitchen, trying to stay as far as possible from Draco's stormy temper. When Fred and George finally entered the kitchen, they cackled momentarily at Draco's scowl before finding the will power to control themselves.

As they sobered, Fred managed to say, "She finally got her revenge, didn't she?"

Seeing Draco's threatening look, George took it for a yes and continued, "We've been waiting for her to. Ginny's a mastermind when it comes to pranks."

"I daresay we taught her well," Fred cut in, polishing an apple on his shirt before taking a large bite out of it. Continuing with his mouth full of food, Fred said, "So what'd she do?"

Draco glowered as he said, "She woke me up by playing Potterwatch. The first thing I heard today was about Potter and how he's 'singlehandedly facing the Dark Lord.' What a load of shit." Draco said, returning to his eggs and bacon.

Knowing the intense rivalry Draco and Harry had, the boys dropped the subject, fearing pushing Draco too far.

That day, Draco had worked his team harder than ever before. He taught them more advanced moves, his palms and feet slashing through the air faster than ever. Amidst accusing whispers directed at Ginny, Draco had made them each practice the moves repeatedly until each had mastered the move. By the end of the day, they could stun and kill an opponent in ten seconds and had learned twenty different pressure points and knew when to hit them and how hard. That day, they had learned how to capture an enemy and pin him to the ground in mere seconds and how to snap a man's neck. Draco's training was flooding back to him, he was teaching his team moves he hadn't used in five years, showing them things that were beyond their learning level. As their final move for the day, Draco had taught them a butterfly kick, something he hadn't learned to do until he had had two years of training. The kick involved throwing ones body into the air and spinning, keeping the arms extended, while the feet hit the target it succession. The body was supposed to be lifted from the ground while the torso is kept horizontal. The total effect was great to use against multiple opponents, and quite impressive.

But the team kept up with him. By sunset, they were all exhausted, including Draco, and dying for a break. Their lunch break had consisted of ten minutes of frantically stuffing sandwiches into their mouths and gulping down water. As the sun disappeared and the team struggled for breath, Draco called the practice to a close, saying, "Excellent progress today. Tomorrow we will continue to work at the same pace and learn flashkicks and more stunning and holding techniques. Rest up and meet me here at the same time." Draco then turned and walked away, a sign that he was still pissed off. Draco never walked away first.

The team had exchanged looks behind his back as Fred whispered to Ginny, "You sure pissed him off, Gin. Hopefully he gets over it as he sleeps. I don't want to go through a practice like that ever again."

Ginny had whispered back, "Oh, he will."

***

Draco's mind returned back to the present as the memories faded from his eyes. He had gotten over the prank for yesterday, he actually hadn't been mad at Ginny after an hour of practice, but he had continued the charade in order to increase the vigor of their training. He wasn't going to decrease the rate at which he was teaching, no, he would keep it going at the same pace as yesterday. His team needed to be out on the battlefield as soon as possible. He knew he was working them hard, too hard possibly, but they needed to be ready to start fighting the Death Eaters as soon as possible. Innocent lives needed to be saved. Draco needed revenge.

Draco walked to the bathroom and splashed water on his face to wake up before he brushed his teeth and haplessly threw on clothes. Gone were the days when he had cared what he looked like, what he wore. He wasn't the materialistic Draco Malfoy anymore. He had renounced the name and all the luxury that came with it. What would his ancestors, the pampered Malfoys of ages past, say if they could see their heir now? Then again, he was no longer technically their heir. No, he was just Draco. No last name, no family to belong to. And, to be honest, he didn't mind.

The life he had now may be a few steps down in splendor, but it was several levels up in what he wanted. He was living how he wanted to: scraping for money, eating sandwiches for both lunch and dinner, owning only five pairs of jeans and a handful of shirts, spending his days beneath the boiling sun, teaching others self–defense and how to defeat the Dark Lord. Yes, this was what he wanted. If only Blaise was here to enjoy it, too.

As Draco pulled on a dark grey shirt, he recalled the words Ginny had said before she had left him in the dark, to stare at the starry night. _Don't fear the past. The past is easy to outrun, it's a ghost. Fear forgetting the past, fear leaving the ones you love. Fear the future._ He knew she was right, his past told him she was right. After all, he'd never been as afraid of dying as of surviving. It had been sheer self-preservation that had kept him from committing suicide, or dying alongside Blaise, for all those years. He knew what each day would bring: pain. But death? It was unknown. And for years, Draco had been confident that the unknown couldn't possibly hold anything worse that what he was experiencing at home. If he had died, the future would have stopped, ceased to exist. But while he lived, the future was an ever-present, ominous shadow, lurking near the end of every day.

Draco looked down at his right wrist, where the newly designed Phoenix tattoo sat in all its fiery glory. Underneath it, barely visible, Draco saw a faded, jagged scar, one he had forgotten about entirely. The only one that had ever been self-inflicted. He had done it after hearing of his father's plans to turn him into a Death Eater, but the imminent initiation hadn't been the only reason. Draco didn't lose his cool easily. As Draco thought of all the events leading to his half-hearted attempt of self-destruction, a muggle phrase came to mind: Hindsight is always 20/20. Indeed, the muggles had gotten that one spot on.

As Draco recounted all the moments leading up to him picking up a razor blade, he realized it had been accumulating for a while. His father's beatings. Narcissa's blind-eye. The constant feeling of disapproval from his father. The death of the girl he hadn't known. Blaise's death. The news of the initiation ceremony. All the traumatic experiences had been accumulating and piling up on his shoulders, and eventually Draco had reached his breaking point.

It had been like the moments before Blaise's death. Draco hadn't seen how depressed his best friend had become, hadn't seen the sorrow lurking behind his black eyes. In hindsight, it all made so much sense, Draco felt like an idiot for not seeing it. But while it had been happening, Draco had been blind, he had been lost in a fog so thick, he hadn't been able to see a foot in front of his face, let alone Blaise. And then, Blaise was tied up and his eyes connected with Draco's mercury ones and told Draco of all the pain he had kept bottled up. And the fog had lifted.

Draco sighed, tearing his eyes from the tattoo and scar and walked over to Ginny's bed, gently shaking her awake. Ginny stretched as she woke up, and then almost instantly groaned as her muscles protested.

As her brown eyes flew open in shock, Draco grinned, saying, "In pain? There's more to come. We aren't slowing down on training."

Ginny rolled over in her bed and grumbled, "The thought of that makes me want to die."

Draco smirked before leaning over her bed. If she doesn't want to get out on her own, fine, I'll lure her out, he thought to himself. Laying his hands on either side of Ginny's bed for support, Draco dipped his face down and touched Ginny's lips to his for a moment, before pulling back an inch. "Will you please get out of bed?"

Ginny bit her lip and looked like she was considering his offer before pressing her lips to his for just a second and nodding. Then she jumped out of bed and ran into the bathroom, leaving Draco standing over her bed.

Draco was spooning cereal into his mouth when Ginny entered the kitchen, as swirl of red and honeysuckle and sunshine. Ginny quickly dumped some cereal into a bowl and added a slosh of milk before grabbing a seat at the table.

Seeing that they were alone, Ginny absentmindedly stirred her cereal and said, "I really enjoyed how you woke me up today."

Draco smirked while chewing a spoonful of cereal before adding, "Well, if you want I can wake you up everyday like that."

Ginny smiled into her bowl of cereal before looking up, her eyes meeting Draco's mercury ones, "We have to be careful. Things get complicated when everyone gets involved."

Draco smiled softly back, "I know." He didn't know actually. This was one of his first relationships, if you could call it that. The closest to a relationship Draco had ever gotten to was inviting a witch to have coffee after he had fucked her. He was entering new territory with Ginny, and it scared him slightly.

Ginny opened her mouth to reply, but just then the Weasley brothers stormed into the kitchen, bringing a loud buzz of chatter with them, and Ginny firmly closed her mouth and turned back to her cereal.

After spending breakfast in silence and listening to the Weasley's debate which Quidditch team was best, Draco went to the sink and washed out his bowl before walking outside to the practice field. Draco had used to use magic for everything, even trivial tasks such as cleaning dishes. Now, he used magic for preparing his practices and guarding the weapons. Draco climbed onto the roof and drew four rings in white with his wand. Sitting down on the roof, Draco stared at the sky and waited for his team to join him.

Draco jumped down from the roof once all seven of his team members had gathered and said, "Alright. So today, you are first going to show me everything you have learned so far and then I will explain what those white rings are for."

Suddenly, all quiet chatter stopped as all seven members concentrated. Their bodies became still, their muscles bunching in anticipation. Though Draco thought their discipline was impressive, the fact that they had to concentrate to remember the moves reminded him that they were not ready to face Death Eaters yet. The moves had to be burned into their muscle memory before they were ready for deadly action.

As Draco called out the names of the moves they had learned yesterday, he watched as his team responded quickly, pounding and killing their dummies repeatedly with each move.

When Draco's voice rang out, "Axe Kick!" he was rewarded with his team simultaneously swinging their right foot above their head and bringing it down on the dummies shoulders. Draco watched carefully, his eyes scrutinizing the motion, searching for any mistake. He knew that when the kick was performed correctly, it would serve a powerful blow to the opponents shoulder, effectively injuring him.

"Hammer fist!" Draco's command was met with the sight of each member bringing their fists down on the dummy and connecting with the dummy using the side of their fist, creating a large thud as their flesh hit the wood.

As Draco went through the list of moves, he knew that memorizing the names would not be enough. No, his team needed to engage in actual combat. So when he finally ran out of moves to call out, Draco explained what the rings were for.

"Today, we will be sparring." Draco said as his team panted in front of him. It was just past eight in the morning and they were already sweating. Scanning the faces of his team, Draco saw two light up in mischievous excitement. "Don't look so excited Fred, George. We are going to rotate, so that each of you get to spar with me." Draco barely contained his laughter as their two faces fell at the mention of facing him. "There are four rings drawn around here. We will split up into groups of two and spar. After everyone has finished, we will rotate. The rules are: no deadly blows, we do not use the fatal moves we learned against our teammates, and if you are knocked out of the white ring, you lose, if your partner pins you to the ground for more than five seconds, you lose. Now, get with your partner and step into a ring."

Draco stepped into the ring facing Ginny. His bare feet grazed the grass. They'd been practicing with bare feet since starting with the dummies, it was easier to control the movements without shoes and it prevented any unwanted injuries. Draco looked up from the white lines to Ginny's face. Her expression was one of deep concentration; a deep contrast with the relaxed one Draco was wearing. Draco lifted his chin by a fraction, yelling to the rest of the team, "Ready, set, spar!"

Ginny whipped her fist at him, missing by an inch as he dodged to the left. He hadn't expected her speed, he had been watching her practice, but she had never shown such ferocious speed. Maybe his intense practices were working.

Dodging to the left, Draco aimed a kick at her side, missing as she hit the ground. Draco didn't feel comfortable trying to hit her, but he knew this was the only way, especially since they were partners. He already knew he planned on having partners spar everyday, in order to become more aware of their partners bodies and moves during combat. As if he needed to become more aware of Ginny's body.

Ginny had lain on the ground to avoid his attack, leaving her in a vulnerable position. If he were an enemy, he could have easily killed her. Some Death Eaters were trained in combat, too. Stepping towards her, Draco was about to make his move when Ginny kicked her feet upwards, hitting his stomach, and sending him flying back a few feet. He had landed just barely in bounds. The circles were around ten feet in diameter, providing plenty of sparring room.

Draco landed on his feet, dragging his hand through the dirt to slow his slide on the ground. Moving back towards Ginny in the center of the ring, Draco threw a punch, faking to the right, when he heard George's voice ring out.

"You were out! Draco, Fred's cheating!"

"Am not! I was totally in!" His twin retorted.

Without removing his eyes from Ginny, Draco said, "You were in, Fred. George, I saw the whole thing. Start from the beginning." Draco then ducked to avoid Ginny's right hook.

Sending a kick flying at Ginny's side, Draco heard one of the twins whisper, "How the hell did he see that?"

Draco smirked as his foot connected with Ginny's ribs, sending her flying through the air and towards the other side of the ring. Draco quickly moved towards her, careful not to let her regain any ground, keeping her at the edge of the ring. Most men, he knew, would be against kicking a woman, but Draco had long learned to swallow his feelings and lock them away until later. That's just the kind of bastard you are, Draco thought to himself as he blocked Ginny's punch, catching her fist in his hand and holding it, and returned her blow, aiming for the middle of her chest, where she couldn't block it.

By some miracle, Ginny avoided the blow by twisting her body to the right. Jerking her hand out of Draco's grip, she attacked again, aiming a kick at his chest. By this time, all sounds of sparring had stopped around them, the other partners had finished and were watching. As her foot neared his chest, Draco knocked it out of the air, causing Ginny to hit the ground to his left. As she stood again, she sent another punch to his face. Draco blocked it, using a technique he'd showed the team a few days before. As her fist neared his face, Draco caught it in his hand, chopping at the inside of her elbow with the flat of his hand, making it bend. As it bent, Draco put his other hand on her elbow, forcing her arm behind her back. Once her hand was behind her back, Draco used the flat of his hand again to hit a pressure point in her neck, momentarily blocking blood to her brain, and allowing him to have her pinned on the ground.

After the five seconds had been counted off, Draco stood, offering Ginny his hand. Ginny grabbed it, her red hair rumpled, a smudge of dirt on her cheek. Even with the dirt, Draco couldn't help staring at how beautiful she looked with her hair mussed, and couldn't help thoughts of where else he wanted to pin her down from entering his mind. Ginny blushed, probably from the strange and intense way he was staring at her, and Draco shook his head, clearing all thoughts from his mind and reprimanding himself. Draco, you fool, after all she's been through, you can't just simply take her upstairs and ravish her.

Straightening his face, Draco turned to the others, making sure they had been paying attention at how he had combined two of the moves he had shown them, and then yelled, "Rotate!"

And so, the day passed slowly, Draco taking around five to eight minutes to finish off an opponent, showing him that Ginny had been more skilled as she had taken nearly ten minutes to defeat. Maybe it was her size, he thought, she was the shortest team member, the fastest, besides him. Maybe that had something to do with it, she was hard to catch. Finally, Draco had defeated every teammate and they were once again in a straight line, listening to Draco as he explained what they would do next.

"Next, I am going to show you some of the quickest and most deadly moves in martial arts. They will take time to master, some more than others, but when performed correctly, they are one hundred percent lethal."

Draco moved over from the team to a dummy, hearing them follow him on the dried grass. Positioning himself in from of a dummy, Draco told his team, "The first move is quickly fatal and practiced by the ancient Ninjas of Japan." As the word "ninja" left his mouth, he could practically hear the grins spreading on Fred and George's faces as he recalled their words, so long ago: _"Never try to sneak up on Draco, he has intense hearing and lightening fast reflexes." "Like a ninja?" _The twins had never known how close they had been on that point, until now. Yes, Draco knew a few techniques that had been handed down by the Japanese ninjas; Lucius had never been so bigoted to deny that the muggle art of fighting had many useful skills. Especially considering the wizards art of fighting only used wands.

"This technique is called the Swei Shin Ti and the first part is sort of vulgar and really unnecessary, so I'm not going to teach you that. The fatal part, though, is when I hit my opponents nose with the flat of my hand," Draco said, demonstrating as he slowly moved his hand towards where the bridge of the dummy's nose would be, "and as I hit it, it breaks. Then, as my enemy is trying to stop the blood flow, I take the palm of my hand and, using great speed, shove the palm upwards against the tip of his nose, therefore shoving the shards of broken bone into his brain."

Draco turned to look at his team, some of who looked a bit queasy. He supposed they had a right to be; he had just been talking about shoving bones into the brain of an opponent. And yet...

"This isn't the right team for you if the thought of killing makes you sick." Draco said, his voice sharp. He knew he was angrier with himself than his team. His team still had the humanity left in them to turn green at the thought of killing another person, while Draco, he could talk about it as calmly as discussing the weather. "You knew when you signed up for this that you might have to kill other people, no that you definitely would. I'm doing my best to assure that you don't get killed in the process, but if you don't think you can shove bones into the brain of your enemy, then I suggest you leave now, before I do more damage to your psyche."

Draco waited patiently for someone to step out of the line, to raise their hand and say 'I can't do this', but his team stayed still, looking at him as if he were crazy. Finally, Ginny said, "Draco have you gone mad? We're mainly green because we'd never thought something so simple could kill us. A broken nose! The thought is ridiculous. Now, I'm going to be afraid next time I get a nosebleed."

Draco smirked before moving on. "Ok, so that move is helpful because its quick, doesn't require much effort, and its relatively bloodless. The next one is the heart stopper."

Draco turned back towards his dummy and dictated as he slowly struck at the chest of the dummy with the flat of his hand, saying, "Muggles use this method called CPR to bring one another back to life, to restart the heart. But the same thing can be used to stop it. The trick with this is that you must land your hand directly on the heart, which is in the middle of the chest, not the left, contrary to popular belief. And you must hit it with full power. Most people, when punching, tense up at the last second, right before the impact, and this takes away a lot of the power. So with this strike you absolutely cannot tense up." Draco finished by demonstrating the blow, whipping his hand through the air and bringing it to hit the dummy squarely in the chest, a loud slap ringing out.

Turning around, his feet feeling slightly itchy in the dry, brown grass, Draco checked to see his team understood before introducing the next kill technique. "Okay, this one is called he Knee Smash to the Spine. And the title explains it all. Basically, the hard part is maneuvering your opponent so his back is to yours."

Finally, the sun set and the team was left, sweating in the dark. Draco reviewed with his team one last time, checking their moves and motions as they swept their arms through the air and sliced their legs above their heads. They were excelling well, learning quickly. They had learned more things in four days than Draco had thought possible. And, most importantly, they were remembering it. At last, the review was over and Draco dismissed.

As the others turned to the door, dragging their weary bodies towards the illuminated house, Lupin approached Draco, saying, "As you know, Draco, I am a werewolf. And the next full moon is tomorrow night "

Draco lifted his hand to stop the man from going further. "I am aware and here's what I'll do: we won't have practice those days so you can recuperate. Instead, the teams practice will be to guard you at night, make sure you don't lose your head. I know you usually have to tie yourself up somewhere in the forest and that there are wounds caused by such rough treatment. I don't want you to have to recuperate any longer than you have to. I think they are prepared for that. They aren't prepared for the chaos of battle, but I will be able to control a situation like this."

Lupin nodded in agreement, his face tired and weary. As the man turned, Draco lifted his face to the star-lit sky, its velvety black blanket alight with thousands of stars and constellations, including the ones he and his ancestors were named for. _Draco. Sirius. Andromeda. Bellatrix._ They were all up there. One would think Draco would hate the sky, the fact that just by glancing at it, he was reminded of his past, but he knew Blaise was up there somewhere, so he could no longer turn a blind eye.

Blaise hadn't visited him in his dreams last night, he hadn't seen him since the night he had tried to tell him something. What had he been trying to say? What night? There were too many to count.

"Blaise. I really hope I don't regret this new training. I hope nothing goes wrong. I hate it that everything with you became so obvious in hindsight, but I was so blind before. I hope that doesn't happen again. I hope I'm not blind, but I don't realize it. I don't want everything to become suddenly clear in hindsight. I want everything to be clear now." Draco let out a small laugh, as he glanced down at the ground before returning his gaze to the heavens. "You know I hate surprises. If you see something coming from that lookout post in heaven, could you let me know? Try to give me some clue, before I figure it out. In hindsight."

Draco cast one more look at the sky before turning around and walking into Headquarters, leaving the starry sky and Blaise behind.

***

Hey, so whether you loved it or hated it, send me a review! I've recently been reading** Noona1's fanfic, **_**Lost To Luna**_**, **and its terrific, so if you want some** DracoxLuna action, **its great!

Thanks to all who reviewed last time:

Music24601

Nosebleed Nonsense

Frust-sheep

Osito

noona1

nina10966

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I'll post soon!

Until then,

-Katy


	18. The Shadows

Hello all. I apologize for the late update! You must be wondering, "What the hell is this author doing? Its been three weeks!" Well, I've been trying to put this together. I've been working on it desperately for two weeks and it's finally finished! Woohoo!

Disclaimer: JKR owns all

Red owns the lyrics to Shadows.

Sunset, I close my eyes

I pretend everything's alright

Drowning in anger from all these lies

I can't pretend everything's alright

Please don't let me fall forever

Can you tell me it's over?

There's a hate inside of me like some kind of monster

I tried to save you, but I can't find the answer

I'm holding onto you, I'll never let go

I need you with me as I enter the shadows

Caught in the darkness, I go blind

But can you help me find my way out?

Nobody hears me, I suffer the silence

Can you tell me it's over now?

There's a hate inside of me like some kind of monster

I tried to save you, but I can't find the answer

I'm holding onto you, I'll never let go

I need you with me as I enter the shadows

I'm holding onto you

There's a hate inside of me like some kind of monster

I tried to save you, but I can't find the answer

I'm holding onto you, I'll never let go

I need you with me as I enter the shadows

-Shadows by Red

_Chapter 18: The Shadows_

Ginny sat in her bed, knees tucked to her chin, exhaustion weighing heavily on her eyelids. She was beyond exhausted; there weren't words to describe the weariness she felt. She thought this was probably because she had fought Draco, and lost miserably, earlier today. Replaying the scene in her head, Ginny couldn't squash the rising butterflies in her stomach as she thought of how powerful Draco had looked, how his eyes had seemed to be watching everything and only her at the same time. His muscles, backed by years of work, had stretched and flexed, trying to land a hit on her. She had liked that he hadn't held back. Her brothers had never held back on her either, even though they had also tried to shelter her and keep her safe. Draco never tried to shelter her, maybe because he knew someone wouldn't always be there to save her. She knew this was why he insisted on forming the Infernal team. She knew that in the end, it was all because of her, because of what had happened. Well, mostly. Deep down in Draco's heart, Ginny knew that a craving, a need, for revenge dwelled there, lurking deep in forgotten crevices, waiting for a chance to attack, this was another reason for the team's existence, one Draco probably wouldn't admit to anyone but himself.

Absentmindedly twirling a lock of hair around her finger, the memory of Draco from earlier that day flashed before Ginny's eyes. His moves were fast, his hands and feet striking out like a cobra. Ginny had had to reach within the depths of her body to find the strength and speed to compete and keep up with him. She knew she had surprised him by lying on the ground, waiting for him to attack. She had caught him off guard by kicking him across the ring. But then he had learned how fast and strong she was and had heightened his own speed. Draco had untold amounts of strength stored in his muscles, Ginny was just beginning to see the tips of it. Draco was still an enigma to her, a mystery. His face hard to read, his thoughts hidden, his strength a secret. She knew parts of his past, pieces of the puzzle, but instinctively, just by looking at him and seeing the sadness concealed in his eyes, she knew that they were small pieces, not enough to even begin to paint the entire picture, to know all of Draco. And that was what she craved deeply.

Ginny closed her eyes once again, leaning her head back against the window next to her bed, wrapping her arms around her knees. She was waiting for Draco. She wasn't sure why, really. She wasn't used to going to sleep, to putting herself in such a vulnerable state, without knowing Draco was there across the room, ready to defend and protect her from the shadows whenever necessary. He was her guardian, her savior. But right now, he was busy talking to Blaise. She wasn't sure how she knew this was what he was doing, she had never seen him do this, but it felt like the right thing. He had spent an extra ten minutes alone every night for the last four days, since the day he had told her about Blaise and what had happened. She knew he was talking to Blaise, that it helped him think things through, to plan. She had seen a change in him over the past few days. Even though his practices were even more exhausting, Draco's mood had changed. He was no longer stressed, no longer carried the world on his shoulders. A weight had been lifted, that much Ginny could see.

Draco walked indoors, passing a hand over his weary face, before making his way upstairs and down the hall of the second floor to tell his team the change in curriculum for tomorrow. Draco rapped his fist against a white, wooden door, waiting patiently for the owner to drag himself out of bed to answer it. Finally, after a few minutes of waiting, a sleepy Fred opened the door, bags circling his eyes, red hair falling across his face and casting shadows down it. The room behind him was dark, but Draco could just barely make out the silhouette of a still-sleeping George, covers thrown across his long body, one lengthy arm dangling off the bed, extending downwards to the ground, the knuckles of his hand just barely grazing the wood flooring. George's other hand covered his face, one of his feet escaping the confines of the sheets.

Fred leaned his face against the doorframe, eyes closing as he mumbled, "Whaddyawan, Draco?"

Translating this in his mind to 'what do you want, Draco?', Draco smirked before responding, "Tomorrow we will not have practice. Instead, meet at noon in the Weapons Room so we can go over our plan of action. I'll tell you what's with the change of plans there."

The news was met with a chorus of snores from Fred, who seemed to have fallen asleep standing upright. Draco shook his head, smiling, before he turned around and headed to the next room.

Closing the door to Charlie's room, Draco padded down the hall to find Bill. Taking a left at a dead end, Draco finally came to it. Knocking on the door, Draco waited patiently for it to open. Finally, he heard footsteps on the other side of the room before the door creaked open.

Fleur Delacour, an angry pout on her perfect features, turned her deep blue glare on Draco. Her lips twisted into a tired frown as she yawned, What eez eet zat you want, Draco?", her r's rolling as she said his name.

Even with her Veela power, Draco thought, she isn't half as beautiful as Ginny in the morning. Clearing his throat, Draco asked, "Is Bill awake?"

Fleur's mouth curved into an even deeper frown, her brows knitting together as she responded with a heavily accented "No. You 'ave kept 'im out all night for so long and now we never make love aneemore. I am not 'appy with zis."

Draco shifted his eyes awkwardly; as team-leader, he did not need to know about his recruit's love life. Sighing, Draco looked Fleur in the eye again as he said, "Well now you can make up for lost time. Tell him to be downstairs in the Weapons Room at noon."

Fleur's mouth curved into a wicked smile as she said, "Zis is perfect. Vere is zis weapons room again?" Fleur looked at him seductively through her long eyelashes, obviously trying to use her Veela powers to convince Draco to tell her.

Draco felt his mouth curve into a smirk as he said, "That's a need to know basis, Veela. Just tell your husband." Draco then turned around and walked away, leaving Fleur to wander back to bed and try to pry the truth out of her unconscious husband.

Draco wandered back to the third floor, having told every member of the team the change of plans, to see Ginny passed out on her bed, still wearing her dirty clothes. Her hand was laying on the bed, her fingers curved, brilliant red tendrils of hair tangled around them as if she had been playing with her hair when she had collapsed. Her long eyelashes curved down her face, etching shadows on it. Her pink lips looked kissable.

Smiling to himself, Draco leaned over her to kiss her awake, like in a muggle fairytale he had once read without his father's knowledge. Ginny stirred; sleep obviously trying to reclaim her. Draco gently shook her until her brown eyes flew open.

Focusing her big eyes on his, her voice unclear from sleep, she whispered, "Hey, you."

Smiling, Draco looked at her, her face so perfect, as he replied, "Hey yourself."

Ginny smiled back as she stretched and sat up, rubbing her eyes and looking around. "Why'd you wake me up? Where were you?

"I was telling everyone the new change in plans for tomorrow. We are going to help Lupin during his change tomorrow night, make sure he doesn't lose his cool. So, we get to sleep in tomorrow and meet up in the weapons room at noon." Draco stopped talking, looking at Ginny to make sure she understood everything in her groggy state. Seeing her nod to assure him that she did, he continued, "And I woke you up because, frankly, you're a bit dirty."

Ginny's grin turned from friendly to mischievous in a split second, her facial expression reminding him of the one the Twins wore when they were up to no good. "I thought you liked me dirty?"

His grin matching hers, Draco leaned down to whisper in her ear, "You have no idea."

Ginny giggled as she said "Then I really don't see why you woke me up."

"Because as much as I like it, to be honest dear, you sort of smell. Go take a shower." Draco said, pinching his nose in mock disgust, his wicked grin growing wider as Ginny gasped in fake shock.

"Oh yeah? What are you gonna do if I disobey?" Ginny grinned naughtily, taunting him.

Draco lifted his head back a fraction, pretending to think, before returning his face to hers, his lips grazing her plump ones as he whispered, "Well, then I guess I'll have to punish you."

Ginny gave a squeak of fear, her eyes growing larger as she feigned terror, "You wouldn't!"

Assuming a serious expression, Draco sighed, "As much as it pains me to do so, I would."

Ginny stuck her bottom lip out, pouting, as she said, "You're evil." Before she pushed on Draco's chest and hopped out of the bed, running to the bathroom and shutting the door before Draco could punish her.

Knowing she could hear him through the door, Draco called after her, "What are you talking about? I'm an angel!"

"An evil angel!" Ginny snorted in response.

Draco laughed to himself as he heard Ginny's snort of disbelief through the door, before stretching out on her bed, his hands laced behind his head, as he waited for his turn in the shower and listened to the sounds of water hitting the tiled floor.

Ginny slipped off her grimy clothes, picking them up to examine the damage. They were splattered and coated with a fine layer of dirt and sweat, nothing a simple spell couldn't take care of. She had had to find a new cleaning spell after joining the team; all of the exertion and dirt was ruining her clothing.

Sighing, Ginny dropped her clothes and turned on the shower. The individual sounds of water slapping the white tiles blurred into one giant roar before it slid slowly into the background of her mind as she looked into the mirror. Her body was porcelain, fragile, but curvy. Her red hair shone brilliantly against her alabaster skin, her brown eyes framed by a mass of black lashes. Her lips were soft and pink. But all she saw was her skin, her fine, ivory skin, freckles tracing meaningless patterns on it.

She looked down at her arms, her stomach, her thighs, her breasts, her legs. Everything she had ever done was there on her skin, whether it had left a mark or not. Some of the scars were visible, like the one just above her left knee; she had gotten it when Fred had bet her that it was impossible for her to fly a broom backwards. She had lost fifty galleons to him on that one. There was a crescent shaped scar on her right wrist where she had accidentally flown into a tree while playing Quidditch. Her left pinky was missing its fingerprints, where she had grabbed a hot pan off the stove when she was four. Across the bottom of her foot was a scar she had gotten after tripping down the stairs of the Burrow and knocking her mum over, who had been carrying a load of dishes. Ron, who had been eating in the kitchen, had seen it all and had howled with laughter for days every time he saw her limping around.

But then there were other scars, invisible ones, ones only perceptible to her. Her left index knuckle, the place Harry had kissed her whenever they were simply sitting next to one another. Her index and middle fingers on her left hand, which she had used to paint threatening messages in blood when she had been possessed by Voldemort. The tops of her arms, where both Harry and the Death Eaters had grabbed her in the same day. Her forearm, where Draco had grabbed her on that fateful night to shield her from the Death Eaters. Her thighs and legs, where the Death Eaters had pried them open to rape her. Her left wrist, she had thought of slitting it so many times after the incident that night.

Ginny looked back into the mirror, realizing she had been crying. She still felt overwhelmed at times when reality hit and she realized that it had been real. When the shadows closed in on her and she realized that it hadn't all be a terrible nightmare. Ginny wiped her eyes before stepping into the shower and letting the hot water run over her skin, covering and enveloping her scars.

She closed her eyes for a brief moment, letting the shadows and nightmares weigh down on her for a second before she pushed back, fighting them away. Draco didn't want her to wallow in self-pity; he wanted her to become stronger. And she would, because deep down, that was what she wanted too.

Draco stared at the ceiling, his thoughts wandering through the past, images popping up before his vision as his mind weaved through the shadows of his life. Blaise's face showed up often, bringing a stab of pain to his chest every time he saw his friend's smiling face. Images of the Dark Mark, so many it was overwhelming, flew across his eyes, blinding and attacking him, wiggling their way under his skin until he had to shake them off, bringing himself back to reality before he slipped back into the recesses of his mind. The unnamed girl, so innocent and pure even in death, her face unrecognizable to anyone who hadn't seen her in her final moments, Lucius' boot crushing down on her weak attempt at seeking help. Draco sighed, rolling over onto his side as he remembered that he would never know her name, no one would mourn her; her family would never know what had happened to her. Draco wondered, did they even care? Were they a loving family, like the Weasley's? Or were her parents as stone cold and removed as Draco's?

Then, Draco's mind wandered to the sharp, watchful eyes of Voldemort and Draco momentarily forgot the innocent girl in the white dress.

Draco awoke late the next morning, the sun was already high in the sky, keeping a watchful eye on the billions of souls beneath it. As he turned on his mattress, he saw Ginny was awake, her brown eyes alert and on him.

Draco smirked, "Watching me sleep?"

Ginny nodded silently, her cheeks reddening at the question.

Smiling at her blush, Draco whispered secretively, "It's okay, I sometimes watch you sleep too."

Ginny smiled, "People look younger when they sleep. Their faces lose all the worries they carry around in the daytime."

Thinking back, Draco saw the girl in the white dress, her face finally peaceful in death. Ginny's face, though, always looked young, always beautiful and fresh. Draco propped one arm under himself as he spoke, "Yea, I suppose they do. But what do I look like when I sleep?"

Ginny looked as if his question was incredulous, "You're a person…"

Draco snorted, "Some people would argue otherwise."

"Some people are wrong." Ginny then got out of bed and walked into the bathroom.

Draco grabbed the giant piece of paper and a few pencils off a nearby stool, spreading the paper onto the ground and setting a rock on each corner to keep it lying flat. The rest of the team crowded around him, watching what he was doing. Only Lupin was absent.

"Ok. So tonight we are going to guard Lupin and make sure no harm comes to him or anyone else while he transforms. Wands are allowed, but only if absolutely necessary. We don't want to hurt him. But if worse comes to worse, we will restrain him using the techniques I have taught you. But for this, we will need a game plan."

Draco quickly drew what he had seen of the forest the time he and Ginny had gone into it to duel. "About a mile in is where we will keep him," Draco said, drawing a circle in the middle of the blank paper. "There are seven of us and we position ourselves equally around Lupin." Draco demonstrated this by quickly drawing seven X's around the ring.

Bill, squatting next to Draco, leaned forward on the balls of his feet, squinting at the poorly drawn parchment, clearing his throat, he said, "But Draco, doesn't Snape give him that potion to keep his head? What's the use of this?"

Draco smirked, glancing up at the young man, before he turned his attention to the rest of the team. Charlie's face bore an expression of mild curiosity as he stood several feet away, his back to a window, red hair illuminated by the midday sun. Fred and George wore expressions of feigned innocence as they simultaneously stuck their hands back inside their jeans, pocketing money, Draco supposed. The twins were some of the worst gamblers he had ever met, they were constantly taking, and, more often, making, bets. Tonks was sitting on the floor, cross-legged, flyaway purple hair drowning out nearly all color in the room. Behind her sat Ginny, propped up on the other windowsill, her red hair aflame, as her brown eyes connected momentarily with Draco's. Ginny already knew the reason for the mission; Draco tried to share most of his thoughts with her.

"As brilliant a potions master Snape is, even he slips up on the potion sometimes. It's very complex and, to be honest, Snape has been a bit… preoccupied lately. Snape has messed it up before and it's possible he might again. If he doesn't, there's no harm, no foul. All that we will have lost is a night's rest spent roaming the forest and practicing walking silently. But if he does, there is the possibility of a life lost, or changed at least. We all know Lupin well enough to know that if he ever changed anyone, he would be devastated."

Draco snuck a glance at Tonks, he knew she and Lupin had a romance of sorts. The young woman's face was downcast, her bright purple bangs hiding her eyes, her cheekbones and thin lips visible just beyond the violet fringe.

Draco cast a quick glance at Ginny, who stared back at him, her arms around her jean-clothed knees, her green t-shirt clinging to her curves and contrasting brilliantly with her beautiful, fiery hair. Ginny widened her eyes a fraction, telling Draco to get on with the plan, before she turned her head to look out the window. Ginny had helped him create the plan; she didn't need to pay attention.

Draco swiftly returned to the parchment in front of him, examining the scant plan, before clearing his throat to make up for the lost moments, "We will need to be able to signal one another from distances, in case anything happens. For that, we will use a specific whistle. This will also test your hearing."

It took much debating among the members to decide what their signal should sound like, but eventually they decided to go with one that sounded eerily similar to a siren and could carry over quite some distance. After listening to the twins demonstrate all thirty types of animal imitations they could create with their lips, Draco sheltered his ears with his palms in exasperation and demanded it cease.

"Okay, okay! That's enough, Fred, George! I've heard enough. We are going to go with the one Ginny suggested." Draco cast a thankful expression at Ginny for suggesting the signal somewhere between the cacophonies of savage animal sounds. Draco leaned his head back against a shelf in exhaustion, his eyes focused on the ceiling as he breathed in deeply and concentrated on not exploding in frustration. He had to admit it; he enjoyed Fred and George more when they were too weary to speak. Out of the corner of his eye, Draco could see the silver glint of the whip sitting in the sunlight a few shelves above his head. Draco resisted the urge to turn, to focus on menacing weapon, but instead kept it in the corner of his eye, in the shadows of his mind. He didn't want to be taken back to those moments, not when he was needed in the present, needed to lead and destroy Voldemort.

"I still think we should use the elephant call!" Fred grumbled. The red head crossed his arms, sticking his bottom lip out in a fake pout. Seeing it, Draco smirked before sitting up straight again and watched his twenty-year-old teammate as he resembled a two year old.

"No, Fred that's stupid. You know lion roars carry over more distance than an elephant's trumpet." George interrupted his brother, his face indignant.

"What! Shame on you, George! That's blasphemy, slander, I tell you!" Fred yelled at his twin, a look of pure outrage at such accusations on his face.

"You're mad, Fred! We tested it out, remember? Third year, we spent all night on the Astronomy Tower while Lee Jordan ran into the Forbidden Forest to see if he could hear our calls. The roar clearly won." George replied, crossing his arms and turning his face from his brother with the last words, resembling a petulant child. As George spoke, Draco found himself idly wondering whether the twins made these things up or if they actually did them. Some of their stories were so outlandish, it would be hard to believe them if it weren't the Weasley twins telling the story. But when it came to the twins, outlandish was ordinary.

"No-", Fred began

"That's it. Stop it, you two." Draco interrupted, all evidence of amusement wiped from his face, his tone flat. Draco turned back to the parchment, holding the thin pencil neatly in his strong, slender fingers, and continued the rough outline of their plans for the night.

Draco tugged on his close-fitting, black t-shirt, the one he had created for the team. The material was stretchy, but tight enough that it wouldn't get snagged on any branches. He and Ginny had spent the day wandering around in a land of contentedness, one where there was no practice and physically demanding labor, no Death Eaters or dummies that needed punching, no attacks or spells that needed to be memorized. They had sat on the roof again, the black shingles warm under their bodies, the sun heating their faces, as they talked idly about nothing and everything. The wind had blown gently, tossing Ginny's tresses into the air, letting them flow gently behind her, sparkling in the light. The air had smelled of sunshine and grass and honeydew, and inexplicably, of freedom. They had discussed everything from favorite colors to least favorite foods to muggle stories and wizarding bands. They had shared stolen kisses, occasionally, when they were sure no one was looking. He had learned that Ginny loved the color pale blue, the taste of strawberries, and the smell of rain. As they were discussing her brothers, she had turned to him, her knees pulled to her chest, her cheek resting on her knees, her brown eyes focusing solely on him as if he were the only person in the entire world.

Her voice had been musing as she said, "When you grow up with Fred and George, you begin to believe that anything is possible if you've got enough nerve. You're the same way. You've got a lot of guts, Draco, you're one of the bravest people I've ever met."

Draco had looked at her, a pale eyebrow lifting skeptically over a mercury eye. He had tried to deny it, to deny being any sort of brave, despite the pleasure rising in his stomach as she had called him that.

Ginny had seen immediately what he was doing. He was being modest. Ginny's eyes widened in shock before she laughed, "What do we have here? The Prince of Slytherin being modest?" Ginny moved her head around, as if searching desperately for something as she continued, "Where is a pensieve when you need one?"

Draco had shrugged nonchalantly in response, saying, "Miracles really do come true, I suppose."

"Well, you being brave isn't a miracle. You've got to have stores of courage in you to directly defy Voldemort. And Lucius Malfoy. And then to run to the Order and teach them everything you know, in order to defy the Dark Lord further? You've got serious courage. You should have been a Gryffindor."

Draco had fake-shuddered at the thought of being a Gryffindor before insisting that he wasn't brave, just stupid.

The bathroom door creaked behind him, jerking Draco out of his memories from earlier in the day. Turning, he saw Ginny step out of the bathroom, her brilliant hair pulled roughly back in a messy ponytail. Her shirt hugged her breasts and curves, her pants a bit looser. Outside, the sun said it was an hour before sunset. They had just enough time to prepare.

Draco tugged on his boots before he grabbed Ginny's hand, pulling her down the stairs.

Outside, Draco and Ginny met the rest of the team. They were standing in a small circle, all but Lupin dressed in black. The old werewolf looked even wearier than usual, great bags hanging under his eyes, his face gaunt and yellowed. Next to him, their faces wearing a mask of such pure innocence, Draco knew something was amiss, stood the Weasley twins. Draco gave them a once-over, glancing along their bodies for anything that would give him a clue.

Spotting a slight bulge in both of their pockets, Draco shook his head before looking into their eyes, "When I said no wands, I assumed you already knew that there would be no testing new Wizard Wheezes products out on Lupin as well."

The twins' eyes bulged simultaneously in surprise at being caught before each dug into his pockets and brought out large amounts of random things: candy, rubber balls, seemingly harmless bits of parchment.

Fred spoke, "But we need a test subject for our new Werewolf Wisecracks line! It's not like Lupin will remember anything!"

At his last statement, Lupin edged quietly away from the twins.

Chuckling to himself, Draco smiled at the ground before saying, "I swear, you two should have been in Slytherin."

George replied, "No argue here, mate-"

"-The witches in Slytherin were hot!" His twin finished for him.

"Yes, if you like slimy bitches." Ginny put in. Draco had to admit she had a point. For all their glossed hair and perfect noses, the women of Slytherin had an awful reputation for being incredibly malicious, even more so than the men. Draco had had more than his fair share of female Slytherin.

"Okay, before we start discussing how incredibly cruel and beautiful the lovely Slytherins are, I want Fred and George to empty their pockets."

Draco watched with pleasure as the two grumbled to themselves, looking like small children, and emptied their pockets of everything.

"And your socks too, boys." Ginny added, standing next to Draco.

He was shocked as he watched the twins take items out of their socks as well, tossing them onto the lawn with reckless abandon. Draco would have never thought of telling them to empty their socks. Draco mouthed a 'thank you' to Ginny before shaking his head once more. He knew that Ginny was aware he was thanking her for not letting them enter the woods with their experiments, that he was thanking her for knowing them so well.

After the twins had emptied their socks, they each straightened up, turning identical lopsided grins at Draco. Draco smirked in response before turning towards the woods and leading his team into it.

The team weaved their way through the forest, the trees growing closer together as they traveled inwards. Draco was leading them as far in as possible in the small amount of time they had. Overhead, the sun loomed, growing ever closer to the horizon, like a countdown silently ticking. Draco found himself checking it every few minutes, knowing that when there was only fifteen minutes left, he would be forced to stop and not lead his team any further.

Finally, the sun appeared to be mere inches from the skyline and Draco halted his silent progress, turning to his team. Lupin looked more exhausted than ever, his eyes becoming glazed over. The forty-five minute trip into the woods probably didn't do him any good. Draco sat Lupin down against a tree, letting the man rest his head for a few minutes, before the monster inside him took control. It was sunset, Lupin closed his eyes.

Draco turned back to his team, speaking rapidly as the shadows began to close in, "We are going to form a ring around Lupin, around two hundred feet out. Unfortunately, there's an uneven number, but we will work with that." Draco quickly pointed each of his members in different directions, leaving a large gap where he would be, between Ginny and Bill. "Remember, if anything goes wrong, whistle. Others should be there in a matter of minutes. Tread softly. Werewolves have acute senses of hearing. You are strong enough to fight him off, of course. I wouldn't have you out here if you weren't. Don't let him past you. Only engage in combat if necessary. Use your wands only if you absolutely have to. Keep your ears and eyes peeled. Good luck and don't fear the ashes, Infernal Division." Draco said, his words clipped and hurried, but clear all the same. Each member of the team turned simultaneously, their black-clothed bodies quickly melting into the shadows. Draco stayed behind, waiting with Lupin for the sun to set.

Draco stood twenty feet away from the exhausted man, watching his tired face in the waning light. Lupin's eyes were closed, his face an expression of a man anticipating torture, waiting for the blows to come. A face Draco had seen too often in his lifetime.

The sun fell suddenly and it was as if a curtain had been thrown over the earth. It was instantly cold and black. The moon found its way to Lupin, its cold, silvery light shining on the man's exhausted face. Lupin's eyes flew open, his eyes dilating, his heart starting to pound as if a shot of adrenaline had been jabbed into his bloodstream. Draco started to back away slowly, his footsteps quiet. Lupin's thin fingers elongated, his nails becoming talons. His teeth became fangs. His clothes burst and ripped, falling off him in rags. His entire body stretched, becoming a terrifying monster of the night. He turned from an old, weary man to a beast in mere seconds, before Draco's mercury eyes.

Lupin raised his head to the moon and howled. Draco stepped backwards again, quickening his pace. He was around fifty feet from Lupin now. Lupin was sniffing at the tree curiously, his claws tearing through the bark as if it were air. What damage those claws could do to flesh. Draco turned and started sprinting towards his post, silently slipping through the leaves and branches. He heard panting behind him and knew Lupin had heard him, but didn't turn. It wasn't time. Not yet.

Draco was streaming through the forest, whipping past leaves and branches and vines and ivy. He no longer cared about making noise; his only goal was to make it to his post. He had spotted the tree on the way in, the one where he would bring the team in. He knew that the team could easily go all night without encountering Lupin, it was a big forest. There was a lot of room for error. He couldn't have that. It would be a waste of a practice.

Draco pumped his arms harder, the only sound that of his blood pounding, pulsing, rushing in his ears. It was thunderous, blocking out all other noises. The only feeling he felt was that of his lungs and muscles gasping for oxygen. He hadn't run this fast since his last nightmare. Since he raced to save Ginny. Since the night he ran from Lucius.

Branches were leaping out and slapping at his face, scratching it, but Draco felt nothing. His only thought was to make it to his designated site without becoming a werewolf himself. He felt the ground shift behind him and knew it was Lupin barreling through the trees. He was almost there, only fifty feet more.

Draco sped up further, pushing his body into overdrive, moving faster than he ever had before. He hadn't run this fast when running from Voldemort in his dreams, when trying to save Ginny, when trying to escape his father. He really did not want to become a werewolf tonight.

His foot crunched on a leaf, lifting upwards into the air and moving forward almost before the other had hit the ground. Suddenly, his foot erupted into an explosion of pain. Draco crashed to the pine-needle covered ground, dirt and leaves crushing into his face. He felt Lupin's breath at his face as he turned over onto his back. He looked into the eyes of death itself. Pupils dilated and taking up almost the entire eye, only a small ring of yellow on the outside telling him that the eye itself was not entirely black.

Claws scraped at his clothing, snagging at it as he looked into Lupin's face, readying himself to fight back. He could see Lupin in the werewolf, if he looked hard enough. This didn't make what he was about to do any easier. Lupin's breath smelled of death, of blood and rotting flesh. Draco could just barely see the outline of the blindingly white moon above Lupin's head, looking ironically like a halo. He looked eerily like an angel. _An evil angel._ Ginny's words echoed in Draco's mind, bouncing off the insides of his skull and repeating like a broken record.

Ginny. It was the thought of her that gave Draco the courage to hurt his teammate. Draco lifted his knees to his chest, folding his feet under Lupin's torso, much like Ginny had yesterday during their sparring session. Draco pushed with all his might, thrusting Lupin off and sending him hurtling through the air. Draco jumped off the ground and sprinted over to the tree as he heard the sound of Lupin crashing into the brush. Draco whistled loudly, the sound of a siren setting the forest alive, as he turned back to face Lupin.

Lupin was standing upwards, rubbing his head. Draco felt guilt rise in his stomach before he quelled it. Draco shook his head. This isn't Lupin, don't take it easy on him. He will gladly rip you to pieces, given the chance, Draco told himself. Lupin stood at the base of his tree now, his yellow eyes glowing in the dark, focused on Draco. Draco could hear the team crashing through the woods, racing towards him. They were within sight now, he knew. Draco jumped off the branch he was crouched on, sticking his leg outwards. He hit Lupin's chest, near his shoulder, and sent the werewolf sprawling on his back.

Draco grabbed at the ground to prevent himself from sliding further. He stood, feeling his teammates at his back, his eyes on the werewolf. Cracking his neck, Draco watched as the werewolf stood as well, yellow orbs focusing on his. Around him, the woods shuffled, Draco's teammates slowly moving into position, forming a large ring around Lupin. This was the ultimate test of strength. To fight your opponent without seriously harming him, to merely subdue him. Draco locked eyes with Charlie, who was positioned directly behind Lupin, and nodded his head infinitesimally, giving Charlie the order to attack.

Charlie leapt at the werewolf, catching him off guard. He swung his right fist at the back of Lupin's head, catching it with the flat of his palm. Lupin was knocked forward and the werewolf quickly spun around, setting his menacing yellow orbs on the young Weasley.

Above, the forest loomed dangerously, oaks and maples creaking as an unfelt wind whistled through the boughs high above. Charlie quickly ducked the werewolf's blow, dropping to the ground to swing his leg and trip the beast up. Lupin saw what the redhead was doing and lifted a foot quickly, kicking Charlie in the chest and sending him tumbling backwards through the brush and pine needles. Lupin howled at the moon, this time a signal he had found prey. Draco paled at the sound. Lupin barreled towards Charlie's still form, leaning over it.

Charlie felt hot breath on his neck, much like what Draco had felt earlier. Lupin grabbed his neck, crushing his windpipe, claws seeping their way into his flesh. Fear crawled into his chest, clawing its way to his heart, threatening to trample it. Charlie was dizzy, shadows crawling at the corners of his vision. His brain started to shut down, the entire world became only sight. His ears and voice and sense of smell faded. His vision became clouded. Pain rang its way through his body, a terrible crushing weight sitting on his chest. All he could see was the glowing yellow eyes of the werewolf.

Then, the weight was released and Charlie was left gasping on the ground as his teammates grappled with the animal. Draco had run forward, seizing the animal and pulling its hands tightly behind it's back. He now held it in that same position as other members tried to beat it into submission, Draco's grip loosening some as the animal struggled and was thrown sideways by kicks and hits.

Draco wrestled with the beast, trying to maintain his grip as his human muscles struggled against its supernatural ones. A stray kick from Tonks sent pain slamming through Draco's jaw, but he didn't release his grip. Draco locked his knees as it tried to run, digging the toes of his supple leather boots into the leaf-covered ground. Near a copse of trees, Charlie was regaining his strength, dragging himself back to his knees. Charlie managed to make it to his feet, straggling over to where Draco struggled with the werewolf.

Charlie's face was perfectly composed, as if he hadn't almost died moments ago, as he walked over to Draco and stood beside the wolf, examining the struggle. Suddenly, so fast Draco almost missed it, Charlie struck out viciously, kicking at the wolf's inner knee, causing him to collapse to his knees, the flat of Charlie's palm striking at a tendon in the wolf's neck.

Lupin was on his knees, incapacitated for the moment, and the team took this as their chance to move. Draco grabbed some rope from Ginny's belt, tying the wolf's hands back, and reinforcing it with magic, to subdue him until morning.

Draco glanced up at the sky as his team hauled the werewolf back into the dark, thick woods, trees towering high above them, their black clothing hiding them from prying eyes. The sky was tinged with the first signs of sun, a light black appearing on the eastern skyline. The sun was on its way; soon the shadows would be shoved back and kept at bay. Until another night.

Draco tenderly trailed kisses down the silken neck of a still-sleeping Ginny. It was the afternoon after Lupin's transformation and Ginny was still exhausted. Draco had woken up a few hours ago and had been walking around and planning practices. In a corner of their room sat his gear, newly mended by magic, that Lupin had torn up last night when he had nearly killed Draco. Lupin was still aware of how close both Draco and Charlie had come to dying.

Ginny let out a soft moan of pleasure as he moved lower, his lips following her collarbone as his tongue slipped in and out occasionally. The redhead was asleep in her bed, a large t-shirt and a pair of shorts covering her slender body, her bare legs tangled in the white cotton sheets. Ginny's mouth slipped into a soft, contented smile as she kept her eyes closed. She wanted this to last.

Draco's lips moved back to her neck as she leaned back, allowing him more access. And admitting that she was awake. Draco smiled into her neck as he continued to kiss her, his lean arms wrapping around her waist as he pulled her closer.

Ginny rolled over in bed to press her body against his, her brown eyes finally fluttering open to meet his mercury ones, intense hunger in both pairs.

Ginny cracked a small smile, "Well, good morning."

Draco moved his mouth to hers in response, enjoying the taste of her skin too much to bother with an answer. Draco slid one of his hands upwards, entwining it in her tangle of red locks, as the other traced the outlines of her curves. His mouth roughly pressed against hers, his tongue working into her mouth where they battled for dominance for what seemed like an eternity.

Ginny ran her hands along his chest, tracing the grooves between hard muscles, his chest pleasantly built underneath his thin, white t-shirt. As they pulled back, gasping for breath, Ginny rolled on top of Draco, pushing him beneath her, straddling him. Her brown eyes connected with his mercury ones, the lust evident, the electricity hanging in the air between them nearly visible. Ginny bent her head down to Draco's neck, kissing and nipping softly at the spot where his vein pulsed rapidly, smiling as he let a groan of pleasure escape the confines of his normally tightly sealed lips.

Draco ran his hands down along her back, his fingers splayed as he felt every curve and dip in her body. Ginny returned her mouth to his, their tongues once again battling for dominance, as her fingers played with the edge of his t-shirt before she yanked it off, breaking the kiss momentarily. Immediately returning her lips to his, Ginny slipped her tongue between their lips, learning every corner of his mouth, memorizing it as if it were vital to her existence, as he did the same to hers. Their hands wandered along the others body, feeling pouring out through their palms, all the tension and thoughts they had kept to themselves finally breaking through as their resolve cracked. Ginny's hands wandered over Draco's scarred chest, feeling not the small pink lines that marred it, but only the beauty of his lean chest, the skin feeling not rough, but smooth and silky. All she ever saw in him was beauty, as he did in her.

As Draco flipped Ginny over so he was once again on top, and in control, his blood was pulsing loudly in his ears, all other sounds blocked out by his thudding heart. He didn't hear the footsteps approaching their door.

Draco ran his hands down Ginny's back before circling them to the front and feeling her flat stomach, his lips concentrated on the space above her breasts. Ginny leaned her head back on her pillow, her eyes unfocused as unimagined pleasures shook her body to its core. Draco started to play with the edge of her t-shirt, his fingers seeking her skin and venturing beneath it.

Suddenly, the door to their room flew open, banging into the opposite wall. The couple wrenched their heads sideways, looking with surprised eyes at the intruder. Draco quickly shielded Ginny's body with his.

In the doorway, stood a shadowy figure, a wand at the ready.

Draco's eyes narrowed in hate as Ginny peeked at the intruder from behind Draco's shoulder. Her brown eyes widened in surprise when she saw his identity. Draco quickly threw on his shirt, covering up his scarred chest, and ruffled his hair nonchalantly, while slowly edging off of the bed, towards his wand.

In the shadows of the doorway, his arms rigid with jealousy, his face clouded and red with anger, his-jet black hair just barely concealing the telltale scar, stood Harry Potter.

_*****_

Yea, so tell me what you think about the latest development! And how did Harry get there? What the hell has he been doing for the past two months? What will he and Draco do? Okay, I admit, they aren't very good questions. Review! I'm starting to get kind of upset with the people who favorite my fic, but never review. The way I see it is: **hey you owe me a review. Get to it, anonymous friend. **Anyways, thank you to those of you who reviewed last time:

-Noona1, who reviews faithfully every time and helped me with this chapter. A special thanks to Noona for wonderful advice. Check out her fanfic: **Lost to Luna,** it is excellent.

-Nina 10966

-Dracoginnylover24

-Music 24601

-Miranda C.

-HinaLuvLuvChan (who reviewed twice, props.)

-ETSUKO


	19. Certain Moments

Hello. This is an update, ahead of schedule. Something my readers aren't used to, I know. You're welcome.

Disclaimer: Ha! I _wish_ I was JKR and owned Harry Potter. But sadly, I am not and don't.

The Kill lyrics belong to Thirty Seconds to Mars.

_What if I wanted to break _

_Laugh it all off in your face _

_What would you do?  _

_What if I fell to the floor _

_Couldn't take all this anymore _

_What would you do, do, do?  _

_Come break me down _

_Bury me, bury me _

_I am finished with you  _

_What if I wanted to fight _

_Beg for the rest of my life _

_What would you do?  _

_You say you wanted more _

_What are you waiting for? _

_I'm not running from you  _

_Come break me down _

_Bury me, bury me _

_I am finished with you  _

_Look in my eyes _

_You're killing me, killing me_

 _All I wanted was you  _

_I tried to be someone else _

_But nothing seemed to change _

_I know now, this is who I really am inside  _

_Finally found myself _

_Fighting for a chance _

_I know now, this is who I really am  _

_Come break me down _

_Bury me, bury me _

_I am finished with you, you, you  _

_Look in my eyes _

_You're killing me, killing me _

_All I wanted was you  _

_Come, break me down _

_Bury me, bury me_

-The Kill by Thirty Seconds to Mars

_Chapter 19: Certain Moments_

A flash of red light flew through the air and Draco acted on instinct, grabbing Ginny by her waist and pushing her to the ground as he jumped over her, dashing towards his wand near his bed. Draco snatched his wand from under his pillow, turning back to face an angry-looking Potter.

Behind Harry stood an astonished Ron and Hermione. They apparently hadn't seen what Draco and Ginny had been doing. Draco silently thanked whoever was listening, he didn't want to have to duel Hermione.

Draco stood at the ready, waiting for Harry to send his next spell. He didn't have to wait for long. Harry sent another spell, attempting to disarm Draco. Draco merely sidestepped it quickly, knowing that the ease with which he dodged the spell would irritate the Golden Boy more than anything else Draco could do. The spell went flying through the white room, casting a red hue on its walls. Draco heard a loud crash behind him, but didn't turn to see what the spell had hit.

Suddenly, a jet of light was speeding towards Potter. Draco turned his head to see Ginny pointing her wand at Harry, her face looking enraged. Draco smirked before turning to see that Harry had managed to dodge it.

Draco sent a spell flying at Harry, as the boy with the lightning bolt scar sent a hex spinning towards him. Soon, the entire room had erupted into sounds of crashing and lights spinning through the air. Chaos had broken out. Ron and Hermione had jumped into the fray, much to Draco's dismay. In that moment, Draco felt certain that whoever had been listening to his silent prayers hated him.

Draco was weaving spells and dodging them with ease. The only opponent he really had to keep an eye on was Granger, and even then she hadn't gone through the extensive training Draco and Ginny had.

Suddenly, Draco heard footsteps thudding down the hall and the Weasley twins emerged behind Harry, Hermione, and Ron. Draco watched as the twins took in the scene and their faces became clouded with confusion and then red with fury.

Draco dropped to the floor with reckless abandon as one of Hermione's spells came flying towards him. As he stood, straightening his shirt, Draco saw the redheaded twins nod to one another behind the Trio's backs before an enormous red light burst forth into the room and the Trio simultaneously dropped to the ground, stupefied.

Draco sighed with relief as he cast a grateful look at the twins, before looking down at Potter's stupefied face.

"Why the fuck did you do that?" Ginny asked the twins.

Draco cast a surprised look at the petite redhead, whose face was wearing a look of outrage.

The twins just laughed simultaneously, "That's what we get for ending that fight before they wrecked your room?" George asked.

Fred turned to his brother, "We are greatly under appreciated."

"I bet she didn't even see that great bit of magic we did." George replied, looking at his twin.

"What a tragedy. We worked so hard on that too. It really was spectacular."

Draco shook his head at the dramatic scene the twins were creating before he said, "Okay, thank you, you two." Draco surveyed the damage done to the room; it was pretty bad. Lamps and papers were everywhere, one of the light bulbs had smashed and glass sat glittering on the floor. "Now, let's take these three outside before they wreck more of Headquarters." Draco sent a transportation spell at the trio, causing them to lift into the air and follow Draco as he stepped outside.

Draco heard the three Weasley's follow him down the stairs as Fred asked, to no one in particular, "So what was that about anyway?"

Draco smirked, he supposed he had to tell them the truth anyway. Potter would spill the beans as soon as he regained control of his body. Draco cleared his throat, before saying nonchalantly, "Harry walked in on Ginny and I in a…" Draco trailed off, choosing his words carefully, before continuing, "Compromising position."

"So, he caught you snogging?" Fred asked, seeming as though he talked about his baby sister's love life all the time and it was nothing unusual.

"Pretty much." Draco replied, giving a small laugh.

"That's it? That's the reason for the big fight? Are you kidding me? I was expecting for you to have insulted Harry's mother at the least." George said, his voice holding his shock.

As they passed the kitchen, Draco felt puzzled eyes on his back. He knew it looked a bit strange, he was leading an unconscious, floating Golden Trio behind him, but he didn't care to explain. Draco heard the scraping of a chair and footsteps from the kitchen. Bill and Charlie had joined them as well. Lupin was still recovering from his trip into the woods; Tonks was probably sitting with him.

Draco puzzled over the reason for Harry's reaction as he stepped over the threshold of Headquarters and into the bright sunlight, shielding his eyes momentarily from the glare. He really had no idea why Harry had reacted the way he did. He hadn't even given them a chance to explain. Then again, that was the typical Scarhead, always rushing into things without thinking. But hadn't Potter forfeited all rights to Ginny two months ago? Draco widened his eyes momentarily. It had only been two months, but it felt like two years.

Draco turned the corner to the practice field and laid the three bodies on the grass, stepping back into a line with his team, as he cut off the spell, waiting for the Trio to regain consciousness.

Hermione came around first, fire and defiance apparent in her hazel eyes. As she looked around at where she was, she saw the scorch marks in the grass, the wooden dummies sitting on the lawn, and the group of redheads clustered around Draco, as if waiting for his orders, and soon confusion replaced the hatred in her eyes.

Ron and Harry awoke at the same time, each sitting bolt right up, with anger scrawled across their reddened faces. A vein in Harry's forehead was bulging out; so much that Draco thought it might burst. Harry stood, brushing the dirt off of his jeans as he did so, his grip tightening on his wand. Draco hadn't taken his wand from him because Draco knew he could easily beat Potter.

Harry pointed his wand at Draco's face, his own full of unexplained rage. Draco looked calmly back at Harry, his own wand rising slowly. Harry shot another curse at Draco, who deflected it with a simple swipe of his wand, the wood slashing through the air swiftly, almost invisible.

Draco stayed on the defense, not bothering to directly attack Harry. Not yet. He was having too much fun taunting Harry by knocking his childish spells out of the air. Behind Draco stood the Weasley siblings, most of them wearing identical expressions of irritation, their arms crossed, as they stared at their other brother.

Finally, as Draco was deflecting another of Potter's spells with a simple flick of his wand, Ginny burst, screaming, "What the fuck is this even about Harry?"

Harry flinched as Draco looked on with malicious pleasure at his reaction. It didn't matter that they were on the same side of the war; Draco and Harry Potter would always be enemies.

Draco turned his head, looking at her in shock as she used language he had never heard her use, for the second time that day. Draco gave a small shake of his head, his pale blond locks moving with the motion, Ginny was too beautiful to be using such ugly language, but he knew she wouldn't like it if he told her that.

Ginny's face was enraged now, the color in her cheeks rising as she stood with her arms crossed, her brown eyes demanding an answer from Harry.

Draco whipped his head back around to look at Harry and watch as he fumbled for an answer. Suddenly acutely aware that he was, quite literally, in the middle of the argument, Draco took a few steps backward, standing beside Ginny as they watched the Chosen One struggle for words.

Finally, Harry looked up, his eyes connecting with Ginny as he spoke his mind, "I walked in your room to see _him__"_ Harry's emerald eyes flew to Draco as he spat the word. "On top of you! After receiving a letter from Charlie saying that you'd been raped! By a fucking Death Eater! How was I supposed to react?"

Draco felt the anger radiate off of Ginny and instinctively took a few steps to the side, trying to get away from her rage. Glancing over, Draco saw Ginny's hands in fists as she raised her wand and sent her infamous bat-boogey hex flying at Harry with such speed, Draco was astounded. Draco had seen Ginny cast spells with incredible speed, but the speed with which she had just performed her last hex was almost supernatural.

Harry flew backwards, his body colliding with a dummy. He laid on the ground, covering his nose, as bats flew from his nostrils, his body rolling back and forth on the grass as he tried to stop the hex.

Ginny strode over to Harry and stared dangerously down at him as she said, each syllable and word coated with enough venom to make Snape's greasy hair curl, "That was two fucking months ago, Harry. Hell, it feels like two lifetimes ago! And you decided to show up now? I told you to not come back, to never come back! Screw you, Harry Potter!" Ginny turned on her heel, her red hair flying behind her as she stormed back to the team, before she stopped midway and turned back toward Harry, who struggled to sit up. "And Harry. Draco isn't a Death Eater. _He_ " Ginny pointed a finger at Draco, not even bothering to look at him. " Was the one who saved me from the Death Eaters. Get it through your thick head, Harry James Potter, because Draco is one of the good guys! He's been there for me more than you have! So do me a favor and please fuck off."

With that, Ginny stormed back to the house, pushing her way past Draco and her brothers, before taking off at a jog, her beautiful red hair glittering in the sunlight behind her. Draco made to follow her, but was stopped by the twins. Draco nodded silently; he knew he had to stick around. The Trio was sure to demand answers.

Ginny ran up the stairs, tears streaming down her reddened face as she pushed past Order members with reckless abandon, striding past them so fast that she wasn't around to here them express their concern.

Collapsing face down on her bed, Ginny sobbed into her pillow as feelings of hatred and regret washed over her, pulling her under and refusing to let her resurface like a strong current had grabbed a hold of her ankle. She hated Harry Potter, and yet, she was still upset that things had ended the way they did. She had slowly been getting over him, recovering from the emotional scars he had left on her, with Draco's help, until he had resurfaced in her life, hauling back all the pain she had tried so hard to forget in those months he was absent. _Why is he back? Why now? _She had asked no, screamed at him to never come back. She had never wanted to see him again. She had promised herself that she wouldn't see him again. And yet, here he was, ruining all the things she had built in the last two months with one opened door.

It wasn't only the memories of their shared, once happy, times together that caused Ginny to feel as if a bomb had exploded inside of her, splintering the girl. All thoughts of Harry Potter brought back memories of that night, the fateful one where she had been attacked and taken advantage of in her weakened state, ruining the redheaded embodiment of happiness that had once been Ginny. The mere sight of the charcoal-haired boy had brought all memories, feelings, and fears rushing back in one look, all the things Ginny had worked so hard to bury and forget, resurfaced in a mere instant, the work of two months quickly untied as easily as a child's knot.

She had finally started feeling the joy and rising smiles that came naturally to people who were undamaged, unbroken. She had just started feeling happy again, being able to enjoy a nice summer's day without checking behind her back too often, without the feeling of total and complete self-disgust and pity she had lived with for weeks. She had started to feel the warm caresses Draco left on her body, feel the tingling of butterflies' wings as they flew around in her stomach at the sight of him, there had even been a possibility a slim, small chance, a fragment of hope, sparkling in the sun like a diamond, casting the rays of sun in all different directions, creating an infinitesimal rainbow, only visible to her that she might, eventually, feel love again.

But then, Harry Potter had burst into the room, once again shredding all hopes of possibility for a happy future in one fell swoop. And Ginny was left, fractured; to slowly glue the pieces back together.

Draco cast one last look at the house before slowly turning his head to face Potter, pain shooting through his face as he did so. Draco reached a hand to his face, feeling blood, and took it away, straightening up to see Harry Potter standing close, his hand balled in a fist, green eyes blazing. Behind him, Hermione's dark eyebrows knitted together in confusion as she watched Draco's lack of response to pain.

Draco dropped the hand trying to stem the blood flow and let it run, trickling down his face. Draco's mercury eyes were lit on fire, blazing with rage and pent-up anger from all the years of despising the Chosen One. Rolling up his sleeves, Draco decided he was finally going to teach the famous Harry Potter a lesson. He had tried to end this peacefully, he hadn't attacked the green-eyed young man, even with all the opportunities of doing so, he had merely knocked each of Harry's juvenile charms aside with ease, subtly taunting him as he did so. But now, he had attacked without Draco looking. And Draco was pissed.

For the second time that day, Harry had gotten the better of Draco's senses. Or rather, Draco had ignored his senses, more concerned with Ginny. He had to regain control.

Rubbing his hand across his nose, smearing the blood, he knew he looked ferocious as Potter backed up slowly, his hands raised as if regretting already what he had done. Draco had restrained himself from hurting Potter for Ginny's sake. But now, Ginny wasn't here.

Casting a glance behind his shoulder, Draco looked at the Weasley brothers, who all looked relaxed, leaning against the house, their hands in their pockets, or even going as far as to not even look in the direction of what Draco was about to do. Smirking Draco nodded to them, knowing they weren't going to attempt to stop him. Hell, they were as angry as Draco was after the way Harry had talked to their sister and about their leader.

Draco took a silent step as he said, mercury eyes ablaze, "You really shouldn't have done that Potter." Suddenly, Draco lunged, serving a kick to Harry's chest, sending the Chosen One flying backwards into a small sapling and sinking to the bottom.

Harry straggled to his feet, not knowing when to quit, as his redheaded friend, Ron, charged towards Draco, looking as foolish as ever. Draco quickly sidestepped the punch Ron attempted to serve, before he grabbed the redhead's arm, twisting it behind his back, and shoving him over to his crowd of brothers, who caught him and held him in their midst, before Draco returned his steady silver gaze to Wonder Boy.

Harry was striding towards Draco, his face set in anger at being kicked. Draco smirked at his determination, Potter didn't know when to stop, didn't realize when he was vastly out skilled.

Behind him, the Weasley's were still holding their brother in their midst, Ron's face growing angry as he saw where his brothers loyalties lay. Hermione stood to the side, watching with round eyes as the scene unfolded before her. Draco smirked, he'd never seen Granger lost for words before, it was a sight he'd pay to see again.

Draco turned his mercury eyes on Harry, preparing himself to subdue the young man once again. As Harry neared him, Draco saw his hands ball into fists again and Draco mentally readied himself to dodge the punch. Was punching the only thing they knew how to do? Probably. Most wizards, and muggles, weren't taught to fight the way Draco and his team had been. Most people didn't stand a chance.

Harry threw the punch and Draco ducked again, slamming the flat of his palm into Harry's elbow and grabbing his wrist, yanking down on the arm and then pulling it up behind Potter's body, causing the man to flip and land on his back, gasping futilely for air.

As Harry tried to deliver oxygen to his brain, Draco towered over him, gently pressing on his windpipe with his foot, and said, his voice deadly, "Finished yet, Potter?"

Draco watched, his silver eyes narrowed and blazing with the flames of hatred, as Harry hesitated, unsure, before his body sagged and he gave a small nod. Draco lifted his foot and backed away, nodding to his team to release their brother, before he called behind him, "Well, then. As soon as you're finished with your tantrum and decide you want answers, we'll be in the conference room, waiting."

The elder Weasley brother's released Ron, pushing him towards Hermione, who was kneeling next to a gasping Harry, before they followed Draco into the cool confines of the Headquarters.

As Draco weaved his way through the halls and corridors of the expansive house, he became acutely aware of the smell of dried blood. Lifting his hand to his face, he remembered the punch Harry had landed on him.

Draco cleared his throat as he instructed the remaining Weasley's, "Go ahead. I'll meet you in the conference room. I need to go wash the blood off of my face before we do this."

The Weasley's nodded, silently, before George spoke up, "I dunno, Draco. It makes you look a bit more "

" Devil-may-care!" His twin finished for him with a laugh.

"Hmm... I was thinking reckless." George said thoughtfully, as if wondering how to fix their twin telepathy.

"Rash." His twin responded.

"Daredevil."

"Good one. Foolhardy."

Draco rolled his eyes, it looked like they were going to come up with as many synonyms as possible to describe Draco.

"You stole mine! Hotheaded." George said as they continued down the hall.

Draco shook his head, turning down a different hallway, his footsteps quiet as he walked to the bathroom. He could still hear the twins swapping words.

Slipping into the bathroom, Draco locked the door behind him, as he turned to see his bloodied face in a silver-framed mirror. The silver around the mirror mimicked that of twisting vines, intricate, yet simply so at the same time.

Draco examined his face, there wasn't too much blood, just enough to cause memories to flood over him. As he cleaned the blood off of his face, Draco saw that he also had a bruise from when Tonks had inadvertently kicked him while in the woods with Lupin.

He had always thought that certain moments in a person's life were specifically designed to be set against another moment in the past, to be contrasted and looked at, examined and analyzed, to show how much on moment could change from the next. As Draco stared into the mirror, his face bloodied and bruised, he saw not the reflection of a seventeen-year-old, hair clean and falling in his eyes, his nose perfectly straight, blood above his lip, a purple bruise on the left, mercury eyes, stony but hiding both sorrow of the past and happiness of the present. He didn't see the muscles rippling in his arms, nor the past that had made him only stronger, or the hate he held toward his family.

No, he saw a young boy, his blond hair matted with blood from his father's rages, his face almost unrecognizable with bruises and the red, sticky liquid of blood, his nose a crooked mess, silver eyes wide with unadulterated fear, fear a boy of his age should have no comprehension of, but did nonetheless. He saw a small boy, his skinny arms and legs too weak to fight his father, just past having to stand on his toes to see in the mirror set high above the ground. The boy's eyes held no hate; they were flooded with fear and a hidden desire, a closeted need to be loved.

Draco snapped himself out of the past and washed his face, scrubbed off the flakes of dried blood, watching as they floated on the surface of the warm water, before sinking and melting into it, turning the water the deep orange color of blood, swirling around as the faucet spouted before his thoughts tugged at him, relentlessly, and he gave in, sinking into the past he had tried so hard to forget.

He knew he was no longer that young boy, the one who needed, so desperately, love from his parents. His mother, still and idle as a statue, his face forever in the permanent mask of someone beyond caring, her eyes glazed over, mouth set in a firm line, one carefully created to show neither happiness nor disapproval, her eyebrows never lifting in surprise, nor bunching together in confusion. Draco had always thought of his mother as a piece of art: beautiful and nice to look at, but something entirely fantasy. She was forever sitting in her parlor, hands curled neatly on her lap, back straight, posture impeccable, her face unmoving, eyes uncaring. She was a woman from a scene of a painting; perhaps she had once been real, but in Draco's entire lifetime, he had never seen one shred of evidence to support that. She wasn't real. Surely a real mother, a real human, would flinch when she saw the bloodied face of her child, surely the sounds of her young child's screams should evoke an emotion from her. But it didn't. It never had.

And then, there was Lucius. Whereas Narcissa had always been unmoving, Lucius displayed emotion, perhaps too much. Lucius' emotions came in two shades: the blinding, scorching heat of rage and the frigid, chilling cold of bitterness. When he was holding his two shades back, though, Lucius often came across as indifferent as Narcissa. But Draco knew. He could see it in his father's eyes; the animal within his father, that made him so hateful, was often barely tied back in his eyes, nearly escaping its cage at points. Lucius wanted to be like Narcissa, to have his emotions so easily controlled, and yet, he couldn't. Narcissa's lack of response had always been why Lucius could control her so well. And Lucius wasn't about to lose that power. No, Lucius' rages were proof that he lived to feel control, to have others whimper and curl into defensive fetal positions at the sight of him, to beg him to stop, please stop, while he laughed and continued his reign of fear and torment, deaf to the cries.

Lucius had spent years breaking his son, causing so much agony and suffering that he would leave his son in a wake of tremors and silent sobs, his body too broken to emit sound. Draco had never fought back, no. He had wanted his father to love him too badly to protest, to fight back, to prevent anything. But it had been the indignant gleam in Draco's silvery eyes as he stared up at his father, his face bloodied, the moonlight shedding a sliver of light on it, illuminating it, that drove Lucius mad, that made him want to break his son further. And so, the beatings, the torture, had continued. Draco had thought he could stop it if maybe, by some chance, he stopped shooting hateful glances at his father during the pain, but no. It hadn't helped at all. Lucius' craving for dominance and control couldn't be quelled, couldn't be burnt out. And so, Draco had silently prayed to be buried, to be killed, for the pain to end. But it hadn't, and all he had really wanted was a caring parent, someone to hold him and whisper soothing words into his ear. Not someone who pushed him to the chilly stone floor and tried to break him.

Draco had tried to be someone else, to not give his father those fury-filled glances, and yet, nothing had stopped, nothing had changed, he had been stuck in a never-ending cycle of constant pain and healing. So Draco had stopped trying to change, had stopped trying to pretend those glances weren't meant for his father, a man who was supposed to protect him, and he had sent them more frequently, squeezing all the hate and pain he felt into them, trying to reach deep into his father's conscience and pull on his heart strings. And then he had realized. His father had no heart; there was nothing to pull, no guilt to be felt, nothing to stop him. And Draco had begun fighting, running away form his father, trying to evade him long enough to exhaust his pent up rage, he began begging for his life.

Draco brought himself back to reality. He was staring into the sink, it's porcelain bowl spotted with bits of dried blood, contrasting beautifully with the white. The silver faucet dripped clear drops of liquid from it, spinning ruthlessly, exhilaratingly through the air before hitting the white ceramic and sinking slowly into the drain. Glancing up, Draco saw his face was bruised, but the blood had been cleared away when he had been reminiscing. He straightened up, looking squarely into the mirror. He wasn't that little boy anymore, the one he had seen in the mirror, the past Draco. He was Draco, a member of the Order, leader of the Infernal Division, one who showed no fear, who couldn't show fear; he had a team looking up to him, following him. He was Draco, he had no last name and it didn't bother him in the least, he spent his days teaching a team how to destroy the Dark Lord. He was Draco, he showed hope to the broken, he had been one of the broken before, he had escaped his former hellhole of a life and found a reason to live. He was Draco and he loved a certain stubborn redheaded girl with the temper of a firecracker. He was Draco and he had finally, after years of confusion and pain, found his destiny, found people who loved him, found where he belonged.

With that last thought, Draco pushed himself away from the sink and walked out of the bathroom, heading down the hall to the conference room, keeping his mind firmly in the present. As Draco entered the conference room, he saw that the Trio hadn't shown up yet; Hermione was probably healing their wounds. Draco made his way towards his seat, at the head of the expansive table, examining the faces of his members. The room had metallic looking walls, the floor covered in silver linoleum. In the center sat an expansive glass table, stretching in what seemed like forever, looking eerily like the dinner table Draco had dined silently at with his parents during his childhood. Surrounding it sat five redheads in plush chairs, Ginny had come down from her room. Draco wondered idly how she had found them, but ignored it. As his eyes searched each of the faces, he saw the twins were laughing about some private joke, Bill and Charlie both sat back lazily, Charlie with his fingers plaited behind his head. Draco shifted his eyes to Ginny's face and his stomach gave a lurch. She'd been crying, that much was obvious. Her eyes were puffy, her small nose pink. Draco knew she could feel his questioning eyes on her face, but she didn't look at him.

He left his eyes on her face for a second more before calmly asking, his question directed at Bill and Charlie, "So who won? Fred or George?"

Bill sat up from his relaxed position saying, "Fred, the word was Kamikaze." He then sat back again, his feet propped up on the table.

Draco laughed softly before taking his seat at the head of the table, Charlie on his left, Ginny on his right, and on her right Fred and George.

Draco took a seat in a plush chair, his body melting into the comfortable material padding his hard, lean body. Scooting his chair closer to Ginny, Draco tried to make eye contact with her, but she avoided it, using her thick, red hair to build a wall between them.

Reaching under the table and scooting his chair closer, Draco grabbed her soft hand in his, asking for her attention. Turning her brown eyes on his mercury ones, Ginny granted it.

Draco attempted a small smile, but it didn't reach his eyes. Giving her hand a squeeze, Draco titled her face up so he could see her face fully. "You okay?" He asked, quietly, not wanting any of her brothers to listen in on their conversation. They all seemed to be purposefully looking in opposite directions. Draco smiled softly as he saw, out of the corner of his eye, that Charlie had his face turned upwards, eyes staring at the ceiling as if he had suddenly acquired an interest in plastering. Bill had his arms crossed and was staring expectantly at the door. Behind Ginny's head, Draco could see Fred checking out the floor, while George seemed suddenly interested in the empty wall behind him.

Ginny silently nodded, a tear silently sliding down her face.

Draco swallowed, it hurt him deeply to see her cry. "Are you sure?", he whispered, his voice soft with compassion.

Ginny shook her head in a silent _no, _another tear sliding down her freckled cheek, pooling at the bottom of her neck.

Draco edged closer, rubbing his thumb against Ginny's back of her hand, "Do you want to go upstairs? You know you don't have to be here for this."

Draco watched as Ginny shook her head rapidly in a vigorous _no_, she wasn't going anywhere.

Giving a soft smile, Draco nodded before continuing to rub intricate, mindless patterns on the back of her soft hand until the door to the conference room opened and the Trio strode inside.

Pushing his chair towards the center of the head of the table, Draco leaned back into his chair, his arm stretched toward Ginny as he continued to trace his thumb against her hand, Draco watched as the Trio sat down wordlessly at the opposite end of the table, Harry opposite Draco, at the end of the long table, with Hermione on his left and Ron on his right.

Harry's green eyes were as sharp as knives as he glared at Draco and said, his voice heavy, "Well, out with it, Malfoy. What the hell is going on?"

Draco grabbed Ginny's hand and softly squeezed as he felt her try to leap up in his defense, and said, his eyes on Ginny's petite profile, voice soft, "I'm not a Malfoy anymore. I dropped the last name a while ago."

Draco slid his eyes back to Harry's, watching as the Golden Boy merely looked at him in response, waiting for him to continue with the story. Draco gave Ginny's hand a soft squeeze, looking at her out of the corner of his eye, seeing her head turned downwards, a small frown on her face, before he started, "Well, as you know, I joined the Order around the end of June. I did this after outsmarting my father in a duel and running away from him, away from the Manor and that entire lifestyle. I spent a few weeks living off a meager supply of money, working at Flourish and Blotts. Soon, I got a letter from Dumbledore, much like one I'm sure you did, saying that school was closed, due to the impending war and danger of transportation. As I read this, I knew that all chance of safety from my father had been lost." Draco swallowed over a lump in his throat before continuing, "I had planned to wait out the summer before sneaking away to Hogwarts, where he wouldn't be able to find me, but when it became apparent that that wasn't possible, I went to Spinners End and visited Snape, asking for his advice. Snape told me to join the Order and after much discussion, and refusal on my part, he convinced me that it was my only chance at survival. So I joined the Order, as you saw. And then, after a few days of uneventful hours of working in the bookstore, I decided that Lucius wasn't going to attack immediately. I decided to take a stroll through Diagon Alley, as the sun was setting, and people were just beginning to leave. I found myself wrapped up in thoughts, so I hadn't realized that the sun had gone down and I had wandered past Flourish and Blotts, but all of a sudden, I snapped out of it and took a look at my surroundings. Then, an orange flash went off, not far to my right, a few alleys away. I heard a girl screaming. I didn't even think. I took off and ran, searching for the source of the noise. As I neared where I thought she was, she had stopped screaming, but I knew that if she had encountered Death Eaters, or worse, my father, that didn't mean anything. I kept running and soon I couldn't see anything, but I managed to see a flash of red as I ran past an alley." Draco fought the impulse to close his eyes as he recounted the horrific tale; closing his eyes would only make it more real. Draco stared straight ahead, as he narrated to Harry, his voice monotone, distant, how he had saved Harry's girlfriend from an unimaginable fate. "And then I ran head first into the alley, seeing the…two Death Eaters and Ginny." Draco refused to describe exactly what he had seen. He squeezed Ginny's hand a tiny bit, before continuing, "I saw that one was on top of her, so I quickly killed him, shooting him with the Killing Curse, and dragged her from under his body, shielding her with mine, as I conversed with the other. Then, I set him on fire and Ginny collapsed. I caught her and sat her down, until the flames consuming Gregory Goyle were exhausted and he stopped screaming and was reduced to ashes. Then, I picked up Ginny and carried her back to Flourish and Blotts, where I called her family."

Draco looked at Harry's eyes, seeing the skepticism in them, and turned towards Ginny, his eyes searching for hers as she ducked her head, and mentally prepared himself for the barrage of questions. Draco applied a tiny amount of pressure to Ginny's hand, waiting until the red curtain of hair was raised, a velvet curtain in front of a stage with Draco as he breathless audience, and her brown eyes focused on his mercury ones. They held one another's eyes for a few moments, silently communicating. Draco knew what she wanted, though he wasn't sure she should do it.

"What was so terrible about your ritzy lifestyle in the extravagant Malfoy Manor that caused you to be so desperate to leave you joined the Order?" Harry demanded, green eyes flashing, sure he had entrapped Draco in his web of lies.

Draco sighed, dropping Ginny's hand with reluctance, and pushed back his chair, watching with a smirk as Harry's eyes widened. The Golden Boy thought he was going to hit him again, "Don't flatter yourself, Potter. You're not worth it." Draco snarled at him before turning away and slipping off his shirt. Draco stood still, his silver eyes glued to the metallic wall as he felt all eyes on his back, trying to read the message carved in ropey scars. Draco stared at his reflection in the mirror, his eyes nearly the same color as the wall, his blond hair almost white, his face whole and unbroken. It reminded him of the private moments he had had in the bathroom, when a simple glance at his reflection had sent him spiraling into his past. As he looked, Draco felt surer than ever that he had been right; certain moments in life had been designed to be set side-by-side and compared.

"What does that mean?" Draco heard Ron's voice, sounding like he was about to be sick, echo throughout the large room.

Draco hung his head, the skin on his neck prickling as everyone in the room examined his right shoulder blade, where the words were carved. Draco spoke softly, his voice echoing through the silent room, "Quod pars es vos in? Sumo sapienter, filius. It means 'Whose side are you on? Choose wisely son.'"

Draco slipped his shirt back on as he heard a feminine gasp from the other side of the room. Hermione. He had seen the puzzled look she had given him after being hit by Harry. Draco put two and two together, "Yes, Granger. That's why getting punched in the face by Harry didn't phase me. Pain is something I've grown used to."

Draco shifted his gaze towards Ginny, so he couldn't see the looks of pity the entire room was tossing him. He was going to have to work his team even harder tomorrow to make them forget this.

"Ginny, what were you even doing in Diagon that night?" Ginny's brother Ron, finally exploded, seeming as if he had been holding the question back all day.

Draco squeezed Ginny's hand once again and whispered to her, "You don't have to answer that question if you don't want to."

Ginny's brown eyes slid up to meet Draco's mercury ones as she gave a slight nod and returned the pressure Draco had applied to her hand.

Sliding her eyes downward, Ginny felt truly vulnerable for the first time in a month. Draco had made her feel powerful, with all that he taught, but right now, at this moment, she couldn't simply serve a brutal kick to someone's jaw and walk away. No, now she had to confront her past and tell her story.

"After Harry broke up with me in the woods, I sat for a long time crying. I don't know how long it was, but it was afternoon by the time I finally stopped. I knew I couldn't return to Headquarters, not yet, because by then everyone knew about our breakup and I didn't want them to see that I had cried." Ginny gave a humorless laugh, "It seems childish now. I wandered through the woods. I guess it was about two and a half hours that I had been wandering around in the woods. But, finally, I found myself in muggle London." Ginny closed her eyes, trying to remember the scene more clearly, "The sun was just above the skyline, I remember, it was late afternoon. I wound my way through the streets, trying not to draw suspicion, and found the Leaky Cauldron. I walked straight to the back, not sure where I was going, but all I knew was that I didn't want to sit around in a dusty bar and drink with the bartender. I walked around in a daze, not paying attention. I was stupid. I hadn't been paying attention to my surroundings, and then I was suddenly alone, in a part of Diagon I didn't recognize. I heard voices behind me and turned to look where they were coming from, I didn't want to be alone. How mistaken I was; it would have been better if I had been alone. When I turned around, I saw them across the street, wearing black robes and masks, white and skeletal. Death Eater masks. They walked towards me and I turned the other way, trying not to catch their attention, but I already had. I started running and they easily kept up with me, gaining on me. Soon I was sprinting randomly down alleyways. I was terrified. All I could think was 'Please, please. Don't let them catch me.'" Ginny's voice broke on her last sentence and she lowered her head for a second, swallowing past the knot of fear in her voice. Ginny lifted her head, opening her eyes, and continued, "They followed me into a dead end alley and I knew I was trapped. I turned around and starting firing spells at them, every single spell I could think of, hoping to hit them. I took one of them down with a body-bind, but the other was still moving towards me. As a last resort, I sent an orange flare into the air and then he hit me with the Cruciatus. I couldn't move, couldn't think. My body felt like it was being ripped to shreds. I concentrated on breathing." Ginny felt wetness on her face; she was surprised to realize she was crying. Ignoring the betrayal of her emotions, Ginny worked past the lump in her throat and regaining her voice. "He started… touching me. Everywhere. And kissing me. It was like some disgusting attempt at foreplay. I punched him in his face and broke his nose. I remember " Ginny's sentence was interrupted by a hiccup. " remember thinking that my brothers would have been proud of that punch. But it only made the Death Eater angrier." Ginny couldn't refer to her attackers by their names, to her they would always be nameless Death Eaters, terrifying, faceless creatures of the night. "We fought. I kicked him. He cracked my ribs. His friend came recovered from my spell and came over to watch. And then " Ginny's voice faltered, her mouth unsure it wanted to form the words. " Then he raped me." Ginny fell into silence, refusing to go on. Everyone could figure it out for themselves.

The room was on mute for a long while, all it's occupants busy staring into empty space, digesting what they had just heard. Bill, Charlie, Fred, and George had known what had happened, but had never heard it described by anyone other than Draco. No one had heard what had happened from Ginny's lips.

Draco looked at Ginny for a long moment. She was biting her pink lips, white teeth drawing blood as she held back tears. Squeezing her hand softly, Draco waited for her to lift her face. As she did, Draco saw she was already crying, tears, beautifully similar to petite diamonds, traveled down her face, leaving a dusting of jewels in their wake, and pooled near her collarbone, a small oasis of gemstones. Her brown eyes looked up at Draco, silently pleading him to tell her it wasn't true, it was all a bad dream. Draco wished desperately, wanting more than he had ever wanted anything, that it was true so he could say it.

Draco slowly looked away, his hand still clutching hers, and focused his eyes on the Trio. Ron looked enraged, his face slowly growing as red as his hair. Hermione's face had turned the shade of pea-green that Draco knew signaled she was about to throw up. As soon as Draco noted this, Hermione pushed her chair back and ran from the room, a hand flying to her mouth, the door slamming behind her.

Fixing his mercury eyes on Harry, Draco stared the young wizard down, waiting for him to say something. Finally he spoke, changing the subject entirely, his voice infused with malice, "Okay. So what have you been doing with the Order, Draco? Don't tell me you've been sitting around here on your ass, mooching off of them."

Draco stared calmly back at the green-eyed wizard as, at his sides, five Weasley's stood in defiance, wands drawn and pointed at Harry. Sliding his eyes to the right, Draco saw Ginny standing, her left fist clutched at her side, her right wrapped tightly around her wand as her body thrummed with energy and anger. On her right wrist, Draco could see her tattoo, shining brilliantly even in the dull lighting, the same color as her hair. Beside her, Bill and Charlie stood, both muscled and imposing, their hair slightly lighter than Ginny's, their anger more controlled than hers. To his left stood Fred and George, looking identical in their anger, their expressions peeved, identical wands pointed with identical hands.

It was clear that everyone in the room had had enough of the Golden Boy's attitude, but it was Hermione, having just walked back into the room in time to hear Harry's accusation, who spoke, "Oh Harry. How thick can you get? Don't you ever use your head? It's obvious Draco's been training them." Hermione gestured towards the five redheads, all aiming deadly wands at Harry, their mouths close to forming destructive words. "He's been teaching them spells he's learned during his time as a Death Eater. He's been making more progress towards destroying Voldemort than we have." Hermione's voice was bitter as she said the last sentence. Apparently, the Trio hadn't made much headway in their quest.

Draco leaned back in his chair, folding his arms behind his head, his slender fingers entwining, his pale hair flopping into his eyes, and told his team in a low voice to sit down. "Not only that, I've taught them how to fight with their hands. We were supposed to move onto weapons training today, but apparently we have other plans." Draco smirked as he spoke.

"Why would you waste time on teaching them how to fight when you could be in the battlefield, helping?" Harry demanded, his eyes blazing, obviously pissed off at being reprimanded by Hermione.

Draco leaned farther back into his chair and rolled his mercury eyes at Harry's question as Bill answered for him, "How many times have you lost your wand to an enemy, Harry?"

Harry grudgingly answered, "A few."

Bill nodded as if he knew this wasn't the truth, his ginger hair bouncing with the nod, but continued, "Well, in order to get it back, it's easier to just attack the enemy, instead of finding another way. Hands, feet, and weapons can do a lot of damage, sometimes more than a simple spell can do. They can be used in both defensive and offensive combat."

Draco smiled smugly, he had taught Bill well. Draco sat forward, waiting for another comment from Harry, but none came. The Golden boy seemed to still be digesting the fact that he had been proven wrong, that the Weasley's, a family he had thought of as his own, had stood up for Draco.

Draco stood, his team following his lead, and walked towards the door, striding past the Trio and opened the door. Draco walked into the hall, his footsteps silent. He strode through it, his team still in the room, when he heard Harry call behind him, "You've all been fucking brainwashed."

Then, Draco heard a loud smack, the unique sound of flesh hitting flesh and a large thud as a body hit the floor. Draco froze in his step as he heard someone yell Ginny's name. A loud bang emitted from the room and more yelling. Draco turned and fled towards the door, his hand reaching the knob as someone yanked it open and Hermione flew out of it, running down the hall. Draco's eyes widened at the sight of the frazzled witch. Her hands were red, covered with blood. Draco threw open the door, his long, slender fingers gripping the door as he did so, and went rigid as his mercury eyes took in the sight before him.

***

Excellent news to anyone who is a **Naruto** fan: I have a new fic. Check out **To Cry Tears of Blood: The Itachi Uchiha Story. **I'm supposed to update that soon.

That ending was mean, wasn't it? Sorry. Thank you to everyone who reviewed last time:

-Noona1 (check out her fic, **Lost To Luna. **Special thanks to Noona for giving me advice and reading my other work! Thanks, Noona!)

-Blockhead77

-nina10966

-my bo.

-Dracoginnylover24

-Music24601

-kaikuduo

.Northman

-Smann56377 (Special thanks to Smann, for reading my other story! Thank you, Smann!)

-PsychoLunatic

-Living On Fire

Thank you everyone! Keep reading and reviewing and I'll update sooner!

-Katy


	20. Rain

Okay, I know most of you probably thought I was dead for the past several weeks and I'm sorry! I've worked very hard on this, and it's the longest chapter I have ever written. Also, I've got a ton of school work, so that doesn't help.

Disclaimer: JKR owns all. The plot and any characters not found in HP belong to me!

Breaking Benjamin owns the lyrics to Rain.

Chapter 20: Rain

_Rain, rain, go away_

_Come again another day_

_All the world is waiting for the sun_

The first thing Draco saw was blood. The vibrant red, flowing liquid life was spilling onto the ground, coating the cement with a thin slick layer. Draco swore under his breath as he saw Harry Potter lying on the ground, blood flowing freely from his face, unconscious. Ron Weasley kneeled next to him, his hair a pale ginger next to the blood, seeming to be at a loss what to do. Ron's thin hands frantically waved over Harry's body as he panicked.

To Draco's right stood the rest of the Weasley's. Bill was holding Ginny's hands together with one of his while he wrestled Fred to the ground. On his left stood George, his arms wrapped tightly around Charlie's, holding back his older brother. Draco did a double take when he realized one of the twins was fighting while the other wasn't. It was unusual to see them make different decisions, but Draco supposed they weren't identical all the time.

Hearing a soft plea for help from Ron, Draco sprung into action, ordering the five Weasley's out the door and to cool off outside. As he swung the door behind them, he growled, "I'll deal with you later." Turning to see Harry's unconscious form, Draco wondered what the hell had happened. Blood seemed to be everywhere, most of it dripping from his nose, which appeared broken. A welt was rising under his jaw and on his neck. Draco hurriedly drew his wand, casting multiple healing spells as he did so, hoping to find all of the wounds.

Hearing a soft sigh from Ron as the blood stopped flowing, Draco sat back on his heels, resting his forearms on his knees, before rising. Draco pointed his wand at Harry's inert form and casted the levitating spell, causing Harry's body to limply hand in the air, before Draco opened the door and headed upstairs.

He was just passing the third floor when Draco heard a gasp and a soft thud. Mentally swearing, Draco turned to see Mrs. Weasley, a hand over her mouth. Draco left Ron on the third floor to deal with his mum, while Draco found an unoccupied bed for Harry.

Draco sat Harry's body on a bed in the attic, the further away from the Weasley's who attacked him, the better. The sun came in the window at an odd angle and the room was covered in dust. There was a small bed in the center of the room, the sheets yellowing; towering piles of boxes and old dusty books surrounded it. Seeing the ancient novels, Draco made a mental note to visit the attic after Potter had vacated it.

Double-checking to make sure Harry wasn't bleeding anymore, Draco ran back down three flights of stairs to see Mrs. Weasley reprimanding her son, his face stricken, as she yelled, "You've been here _how_ long Ronald Weasley! And you didn't tell me? And why, for god's sake, is Harry bleeding! What have you been doing?"

As she quieted, expecting an answer, it took Ron a moment to gain his voice, and the nerve, to answer her questions, "Well, Mum, we've been here about three hours. And uh, we were busy, you see, talking with Draco and Ginny. And Harry's bleeding because he was…" Ron trailed off, apparently trying to decide what exactly to tell his mother. "Attacked."

Draco's mercury eyes widened as Mrs. Weasley paled and then pushed her son out of the way, running up the stairs. Draco called after her, "He's in the attic!"

Turning towards Ron, Draco studied the redhead curiously before speaking his mind, "Why didn't you tell your mother the truth?"

Ron crossed his arms defensively, "I did tell her the truth."

Draco gave a short, soft laugh before rephrasing his question, leaning one shoulder against the banister of the staircase, "Why didn't you tell her the whole truth?"

Closing his dark blue eyes, Ron suddenly looked aged, "Mum doesn't need to know everything." Ron let out a sigh before continuing, "Look, Harry's my best mate, but he got what was coming to him." Lowering his voice to a whisper, Ron glanced warily at the staircase, as if afraid his mother would materialize at any moment, "If my mum finds out, she'll probably stop what you're doing here. And you're doing a good thing here, Draco." A loud laugh escaped his lips as he said it. "I never thought I would say those words, but there they are. You're doing a good thing. We need all the help we can get. And don't tell Hermione, but " Ron looked around as if telling Draco a secret he didn't want anyone else to overhear, " You're kind of better than her at spells. We could use you in this war."

Draco pulled his face into a genuine half-smile, jamming his hands in his pockets as he leaned against the railing, "We could all use help in this war. Where did Hermione run off to anyway?"

"I think she ran to get towels or something." Ron said, shrugging.

Draco knit his eyebrows together, "Hermione's a witch. She doesn't need towels."

Ron shrugged carelessly in response, to which Draco shook his head before heading downstairs to figure out exactly what had happened with his team.

"Alright, who started it?" Draco demanded as he walked out of Headquarters, letting the door slam loudly behind him, causing the team to flinch.

His questions were met with silence and a slight raise of an eyebrow from Ginny. Of course, Draco mentally slapped himself, these were the Weasley's, they weren't going to rat on one another. Draco sighed as he walked toward them, his footsteps causing a slight rustle of the grass as he walked, and sat down in front of them, motioning for them to join.

As the six sat in a circle, Draco started the conversation again, making sure his concern was evident in his voice, "What happened in there?"

Ginny looked down and began playing with the hem of her shirt, it had been an immensely long day for her, as she spoke, "He insulted you and I was just so sick of all his bullshit that I hit him "

" Socked him one good in the nose too. Deserves it, the slimy git." Fred interrupted his sister, his voice full of boasting, "And then Charlie and I, well we leapt at him too. I think I kicked him in his ribs and hit his throat."

"While I threw him to the ground." Charlie added, his voice remorseful.

Draco ran a hand over his face before leaning back onto his hands and responding, "Well, this could get us the entire team into a lot of trouble. If your mum finds out what happened, she won't be too happy with you three, or with what I'm teaching you. I'm not showing you how to beat up Potter, I'm teaching you how to defeat enemies and if you can't prove that you know the difference, then we may have to quit these practices."

There was a collective groan of upset responding to his announcement as Draco continued, "Ron merely told your mother that Harry was attacked, however when he wakes up, he isn't going to be too happy. Let's just hope Ron and Hermione can convince him to keep it quiet."

"Ron and Hermione?" Bill asked, his voice incredulous as he crossed his arms, leaning slightly away from Draco as he spoke, "They're helping us? Why would they do a thing like that?"

Draco shifted his gaze to the sky as he contemplated any ulterior motives the two might have. When he discovered none, he flicked his eyes downwards, landing on Charlie's as he spoke, "Ron has come to realize that what we are doing with the team is good; he says that they need all the help they can get on the battlefield and I suppose they are desperate enough to take a bunch of fighters, even if they're brainwashed." Draco layered sarcasm thickly on his last word as he drawled it, before adding, "And if your brother has realized this, you can guarantee that Hermione has already."

Ginny snorted loudly at the vague insult to Ron's intelligence, causing the rest of the circle to burst into laughter. As the five redheads tossed their heads back and freely howled at the sky, Draco couldn't help joining, their happiness was contagious, even in the middle of a small crisis.

Draco closed his eyes and smiled as he felt the warm sun on his face, his mind settling for a moment until a shadow passed quickly over his face. Snapping his eyes open, Draco saw Hermione, dressed in a pair of jeans and a light blue shirt, her hair disheveled, running back into the house.

Draco stood quickly, jogging after her as he called her name, "Hermione! Hey, wait!"

As his calls reached the girl's ears, she turned around, her large brown eyes curious, "What?"

Draco slowed to a walk as he neared her, his feet crunching on the dry grass beneath him as he stepped into the shade the shadows provided, "Where did you go after Harry got hit?"

Hermione's eyes narrowed in suspicion, as she said, her voice cautious, "Why do you want to know?"

Draco lifted a pale eyebrow, "Your best friend lies on the ground bleeding and you run from the room? Doesn't sound like the Gryffindor I know."

Hermione crossed her arms and looked away from Draco, her eyes flicking towards the house as if she had somewhere else to be, before she answered, "Well if you must know, I tend to get " Hermione stuttered before continuing, rushing the end of her sentence, "I get a little queasy at the sight of blood. I came out here for some fresh air."

Draco laughed at her answer, causing her cheeks to flush with red, "Well you're in the wrong profession then, aren't you, if you get sick at the sight of blood."

Hermione gave a half-hearted attempt at a smile before she turned on her heel and strode into the house, slamming the door behind her as Draco called out, "Harry's stopped bleeding, by the way, you can see him without getting sick!"

He wasn't entirely sure he believed the Gryffindor's story, and yet, he could find no reason she would lie.

Draco blocked Fred's tonfa as the dark wood whipped through the air. The deep thud of metal hitting wood echoed through the early morning chill as Draco brought one of his daggers up to meet the wooden instrument, aiming his other dagger at Fred, feeling a jar in his arms as the redhead blocked his blow. The two flew apart, Draco pushing Fred away from him, as they realized they would have to wrestle one another in this position.

Fred charged towards Draco, his red hair whipping backwards with the wind, his eyebrows knitted in concentration as he planned his moves, like a chess player, several in advance. Draco watched, his eyes critical, capturing every move; the infinitesimal twitch of Fred's right hand as he decided which blow to strike with, the tightening of the knuckles on his left hand as it gripped the other wooden bat, the fractional narrowing of his brown eyes as the sun hit his face.

As he calculated Fred's advance, Draco's mind wandered to the past week. It had been exactly seven days since the gory arrival of the Trio and Draco had yet to be berated by Mrs. Weasley. He hadn't a clue what Ron and Hermione had said to Harry to keep his mouth shut, but it had worked so far and Draco was immensely thankful.

Draco dodged to the left of Fred's swing, ducking as the tonfa whipped above his head, a soft whistling sounding through the air. They had been practicing this entire week, with a few lessons on self-control as well. Draco planned on taking them on their first mission soon, very soon, if they all did as well as Fred was on their final test.

Standing up, Draco positioned a foot behind him, gripping his two onyx daggers, the sun and moon engravings shimmering as the sun refracted off their embossed faces. Tensing his muscles, Draco sprang at Fred, trying to catch the redhead off guard. One of his daggers whipped through the air towards the young man's face as the other embedded itself in a tonfa. As Fred was preoccupied with dodging the knife slashing towards his face, Draco yanked on his tonfa, throwing it across the field, out of reach of the lanky redhead who now stood before him with only one weapon.

Ah, the final test, Draco thought proudly. The team wasn't aware, but not only was Draco testing them on their ability to strike at him with weapons, but also on all they had learned so far, including thinking quickly.

Fred retaliated, dropping the other tonfa on the ground, the thud of the wood hitting soft earth sounding as Fred grabbed Draco's wrists, pointing on the pressure points to release his knives.

The two onyx daggers fell to the ground, watched by their owner's silvery gaze, until they embedded themselves to the hilt in the soft, brown earth. Both men knew bending down to retrieve their weapons could mean a fatal blow.

Draco launched himself at Fred, his fists flying through the air, only to connect with Fred's own rough, callused palm. His other lashing through the air, he felt it connect with Fred's shoulder before Draco felt his elbow collapse and he was pinned, his hand behind his back.

Draco smirked, there were ways to escape this handhold, but none were very easy. Loosening his muscles, Draco called out, "Okay Fred. Congratulations. You win."

As Draco felt Fred's grip on his arms loosen, he spun around to see Fred already standing some distance away, still on his guard. Draco couldn't help chuckling, Fred didn't miss much. He had known it was too easy, that the last test would be to always stay on your guard.

Shaking his head, Draco bent to wrench his knives out of the heavy earth as he said, his silver gaze watching the lanky redhead, "Enjoy your day off. Tell George it's his turn. I'll tell you the results at the end of the day." Draco returned his eyes to the ground as he yanked his daggers out of the soft earth, leaving two large crevices behind, and readied himself for another opponent.

Chest heaving as he dodged another of Ginny's knives, Draco wasted time until she ran out of ammo. Her weapon of choice had been throwing knives, powerful against an opponent of any size. Draco couldn't help but approve, it was a long-range weapon, something to keep her away from enemies larger than her.

Gods, how many of those does she have? Draco thought to himself as he dodged yet another dagger, the silver whizzing by his ear, almost imperceptibly with speed.

He had been testing his team all day and finally he was at the last member, Ginny. Her brilliant, flame-like hair danced and dazzled in the sunlight as she whirled around the training grounds, her feet moving swiftly over the grass, making no noise as she switched feet, her roughened hands readying to throw another knife as she raised it and aimed for Draco again, forming plans of attack in her head. She was distinctly, almost painfully, aware of his large size compared to her petite body. She couldn't take him out with mere brute force alone. She would have to outsmart him.

But how to outsmart the master of battle himself? The man who could see every move she made? The man who stood there with his silvery gaze and watched, predicting every shift in position, every knife throw, as if he were able to read her mind? How could she outplay the man who had taught her everything she knew?

She would use his weakness against him.

Ginny grabbed her last two knives and dashed from the shadows of the trees, her red hair whipping through the wind as she ran towards Draco, her mind weaving a plan.

Draco felt his silver eyes widen slightly; he had expected her to stay in the shade and continue to throw her knives. Instead, she had decided on action. He couldn't say he was complaining.

His grey eyes watched her every move, his head automatically ducking as she swung a punch at his face, his hand lifting to catch her knee as she attempted to break his nose. They were evenly matched it seemed, he with his all-seeing eyes and her with her relentless blows.

Her the palms of her hands and flats of her feet rained blows upon him as if he were standing outside in a downpour, the rain soaking through his clothes and saturating his skin, his shoes feeling heavy on his damp feet as the sky emptied itself of all the sins of humanity.

He was barely blocking her blows at times, his hand sweeping her foot away from his body just in time, his hands grabbing her fists moments before the impact, but he was blocking them all the same.

Draco blocked a stab from Ginny with an onyx dagger, the silver and jet clashing together with the clanging of metal, as she tried to bring her knee upwards Draco slammed it back towards the ground with his free hand. Draco pushed her body away from his, hoping to catch a moment and regroup his thoughts, to gain an advantage.

As he pushed, he saw Ginny's foot bend underneath her weight at an awkward angle. He watched her fall, as if in slow motion, with reality not entirely working properly, her red hair streaming through the air, glittering different shades of ruby and rose, her brown eyes widening as she fell, caught off her guard, her daggers falling from her small hands as they flattened in anticipation of the impact.

A soft thud was all that was heard as she hit the ground, her face immediately contorting into pain. Draco felt his heart explode as her small features twisted into unhappiness, her small nose scrunching, her pearly teeth biting a soft, pink lip, her brown eyes filling with tears; it had been his fault.

Draco rushed forward and dropped to his knees next to her, his hands running over the bristly grass before frantically waving over her ankle as his brain slowed to a standstill, all ideas as to what to do emptying themselves, his mind becoming blank. He looked just like Ron had earlier in the morning, panicked, frozen, useless.

Draco grabbed her ankle gently and stretched it out, mumbling questions, softly interrogating Ginny on her wellbeing. Ginny's face paled a bit as he touched it and Draco closed his eyes briefly, trying to rid his mind of that sight, of her in pain.

The cool, metallic feeling of a blade bit against his throat and Draco snapped open his silvery gaze to stare astonished at a grinning Ginny Weasley, her ankle unhurt, her brown eyes clear.

Ginny's grin spread across her features as Draco drew his eyebrows together and then shot up, hiding beneath his fair hairline.

"I win." Ginny said, her insides floating around as she tried to refrain from gloating. She had fooled the foolproof Draco, he had fallen for her act. She had used his greatest weakness against him.

Flipping her knives into a belt, Ginny offered Draco her hand, heaving him to his feet.

He could never stop worrying about her, never quit thinking of her as fragile. She was his greatest weakness.

As Draco stood to his feet, his mind quickly sped backwards, playing the entire scene as if on a screen in one of the muggle theatres, with Draco sitting front row center in a lavish, velvet seat, munching on a carton of popcorn. In his minds eye, he watched as their entire fight scene played backwards, then Ginny was walking backwards towards the shadows from whence she came. Draco watched her slide the daggers back into her pockets. His silver eyes narrowed as he watched her face for emotions, for a spark. Suddenly, so obvious he wondered how he had missed it, her face lit brightly up. Ah, so that's when she had planned it, Draco thought.

It took a lot of forethought and knowledge to catch the enemy off guard, let alone know your enemy's weakness. Draco dusted his jeans off, before straightening to his full height and smiling down at the smirking redhead, "Good job, Ginny."

Draco took a step backwards, still facing Ginny, wanting to never let her catch him off guard again. She had taught him something though, something he had never thought would happen. Draco had always been under the impression that he would be the only one teaching, that there was nothing for him to learn. Draco snorted internally at his own ignorance, there was always something to learn, wasn't he learning new things every day? A week ago, hadn't he learned to never kiss Ginny when the Golden Trio is in the house? Hadn't he learned that the Weasley twins like to hide things in their socks? Wasn't he still struggling to learn how to cope with all that had happened in the recent months since Blaise's death? Ginny had just taught him that she could take care of herself. Despite her size, she had overpowered Draco, she had found his weakness. Draco wanted to smack his forehead at his own stupidity. She'd always been terrific at discovering weaknesses, hadn't she proved that in muggle London, when she discovered that man was cheating on his wife? Ginny Weasley was a force to reckon with, a person not to underestimate, someone he really shouldn't worry about. But, Draco's conscience told him quietly, he would anyway. He always would.

He took another step backwards, edging his way towards the weapons room, his feet crunching softly on the grass as the sky darkened overhead.

A loud snort reached his ears, "I'm not going to try to catch you off guard again. I already proved my superiority in battle." Ginny said, a smirk on her lips as she tossed her hair in pretend cockiness.

Draco laughed aloud, "You're going to have to defeat me a few more times to prove your superiority. I'll be ready next time."

Ginny smiled, brown eyes gleaming, "Is that a challenge?"

Leaning against the door to the weapons room, Draco said, his voice clear, "Yes." He then turned towards the door and strode into the room, setting his weapons down, Ginny's footsteps behind him as she padded softly into the room.

Out of the corner of his eye, Draco saw the soft, dull grey glint of the whip, it's normal gleam gone because of the lack of the sun. It was the only weapon unused, untouched. Draco refused to teach his team how to use it.

Draco turned away from the whip and saw that the room was empty, Ginny had gone, leaving her weapons in their rightful place. His feet padded against the floor as he exited the room, stepping into the cloud-covered day outside. He stood just outside the door for a second, staring at the light grey sky, it's clouds looking as if they were about to burst. He felt a tug on his arm and turned, just in time to see Ginny's face before her lips attacked his.

It had been a week since they had had any form of intimate contact and they both reacted as if they had been starving. Ginny clung to him as if she were drowning, her hands digging into his shoulders as he pressed his lips fiercely to hers, his tongue memorizing all corners of her mouth.

Ginny spun them around so his back was against the house as she nipped at his bottom lip, his hands roaming her body. The clouds finally broke, rain pouring down their sweaty backs and necks, cooling and refreshing their hot skin. Draco opened his silver eyes in time to see a bird flying overhead, it's progress hindered by the torrential downpour. Across the field, he saw a figure Hermione he thought dash away from the woods and towards the house. Ginny broke her lips away from his to stare at the sky as the rain hardened, decreasing visibility.

A frown crossed his features as a thought occurred to him: it seemed almost as if the heavens were crying, as if Blaise was crying. But why was Blaise unhappy? Was it because he was dead? Draco had to admit that he would have thought being dead would put a damper on things, but Blaise had said it was the opposite. Was it because of what he had tried to say to Draco during their dream, about that night? Was it because Draco hadn't deciphered the night Blaise spoke of? Or, Draco wondered, his muscles tensing, was Blaise trying to warn him, as he had asked?

"Okay, tomorrow we will go on our first mission. I have already found the Death Eater hideout we will attack." Draco sat in the weapons room facing his team, a piece of paper laid flat in front of him as he began discussing the plans for tomorrow's mission. He had received the information from Snape in a letter a couple of days ago, describing the weaknesses of the hideout, it's address, and the names of the low level Death Eaters inside. Outside, the rain still fell; it hadn't stopped since the day before, when it had caught Draco and Ginny kissing.

Draco leaned forward, grabbing the piece of paper and sliding it towards him, the soft, yet gritty sound of paper on wood sounding through the crowded room before it was drowned out by a peal of thunder. Ginny was across from Draco, her back against one of the dark wood shelves, two thin ankles stretched out, one crossing the other, her brown eyes on Draco as her red hair fell across one shoulder, shining brilliantly even in the dim light. Bill sat beside her, his palms flat behind him as he sat Indian style, his square jaw set in contemplation.

"The hideout they're using is hidden in Liverpool, in some of the poorer, more rural, parts."

Charlie straightened up from where he had been lying on the ground between Tonks and Fred, his blue eyes sparkling with interest, "No offense Draco, but why the hell would the Death Eaters be in the _poor_ parts of Liverpool? Death Eaters aren't exactly known for their lack of Galleons."

Draco smirked in response, "No, most Death Eaters aren't known for their poverty. But these are lower level Eaters and so they won't have gone on as many raids. Most Eaters steal their wealth from the more affluent wizarding families when they raid their houses. Only Death Eaters high in the ranks or who have been with Voldemort for a long time are filthy rich.

"Onto our next topic: infiltration. The house" Draco said, drawing a simple square onto the blank sheet of paper, "Is fairly rundown, therefore its entry points are weakened. There aren't many neighbors close by, as it is set in the more rural areas, so we won't have to worry about witnesses. There will most likely be magical barriers, but these will be easy to take down. Our entry will have to be fast after we destroy the barriers, though. If there are any remotely talented witches or wizards in the hideout, they will sense it when the barriers are cut down. We can't give them any time to prepare themselves. We will have a minute tops before the one who set the barriers realizes something is wrong." Draco stretched his thin fingers forward and smoothly drew a few lines around the house where the team would enter. "We will enter from various points, one team on each side of the building. I want Fred and George to kick in the front door, making as much noise as possible as they go. Be sure to scare them," Draco said, looking both twins in their identical sets of brown eyes. Fred and George gave a short, determined nod in return, their red hair bouncing. "I want you to cause as much chaos as possible and scare the enemies towards the back of the house. As they run towards the other exits, I will give the signal for Bill and Charlie to enter the house via one side door and Remus and Tonks at the other. When they see you at the doors, they will run for the final exit, the back door, where Ginny and I will be lying in wait. We will then have them surrounded and they will be in complete panic. The lower Death Eaters aren't trained to deal with invasions, people don't hunt them down usually. In fact, something like this is unprecedented." Draco's silver gaze bore deeply into the eyes of his team as he said, his voice full of pride, "We are making history."

"We'll be famous!" Fred piped up somewhat sarcastically.

"Ah, the fame, the fortune, the glamour!" His twin said, lifting a hand to his forehead and swaying dramatically.

"Don't forget the babes!" Fred added, grinning sloppily.

"Yes, yes, you'll have your names in lights. Now shut up." Ginny reigned in their theatrics, lightly slapping each on the back of their red head.

"Fame isn't the reason we're doing this." Lupin said gravely, his face looking weary. "We are doing this to help people, to save innocent lives."

Draco nodded respectfully to Lupin as the twins' faces sobered instantly. "Alright, now on " Draco's words were interrupted by a roar of thunder as rain pelted the windows. Outside, unseen by the team, a figure was illuminated by a crack of lightening as it ran across the muddy fields before the sky darkened even further. Tonks quickly brightened the room by shooting a brilliant orb at the ceiling with a whispered _Lumos maxima_, where it hung above their heads, illuminating the dark room, as Draco continued " to our enemies. Snape told me that there would be five or six low-level Death Eaters present in the house. Gale Peckman, Cyrus Sereve, Sofia Milieuxe, Joshua Pingry, Nelson Avide, and Penelope Rounier. Peckman is the oldest and therefore the leader, but he's easily scared, the reason why he hasn't made his way up the Death Eater ranks. You can't eat death if you're scared of it. The other's look up to him, for some unexplained reason, so if the coward runs, they most likely will as well. However, Sofia Milieuxe is turning out to be a mini-Bellatrix, according to Snape. Something isn't quite right with her, so she may take more than one man to deal with her. The other four are fairly straightforward. They aren't too talented, but they aren't first years. They will know a few rudimentary spells, and a few dark curses, so be ready for anything. When we have them surrounded, the cowards will realize they have no chance of escape and will turn to fight you. Be careful: Death Eaters don't fight fair. They will offer you money, jewels, perhaps even lovers, anything to escape death."

Draco glanced down at his sheet of paper, blank but for the crudely drawn square and lines, as silence hung oppressively over the room, waiting on edge for Draco's next instructions. "We will all come out alive, I am confident of this, or else I wouldn't let you go on this mission. It will be easy enough for everyone to survive safely, but it will be no walk in the park. These Death Eaters will test you. They will make you kill them, you have no choice. They may even scare you. But in the end, it is either you, along with dozens of more people in the future, or them. We will wear our gear as usual. But we will not wear masks. We may have to wear masks in later missions dealing with hiding or scouting, but for this it is unneeded. The Death Eaters will not be able to see us any sooner than when we attack. We will also bring all of our weapons, as back up. Be prepared to fight with your weapons or your fists, your wands could be taken from you at any moment."

Draco glanced around at his team, seeing both determination and fiery passion lighting up all seven pairs of eyes. Outside, the thunder rolled once again, nearly shaking the house from its foundation.

Roaming through the expansive first floor, Draco's eyes grazed over the faces of nearly sixty Order members, searching for only seven in particular. He had just left a meeting with Moody, having debriefed the head of the Order and gotten approval for the mission, along with a few handshakes and pats on the back for creating the team. Stepping into a dimly lit room, the sounds of poker chips being slid across a table echoing through the air of the low rumble of masculine voices, Draco strained his eyes, peering through the smoky fog from the cigars the men were smoking, searching for the Weasley brothers.

"Draco, over here!" A voice called through the haze.

Turning, Draco strode over to the dark corner from whence the voice had come. As he swaggered over, he could see the Weasley twins, each lounging in a soft, leather chair, feet propped up, as they talked to Harry and Ron. Draco swallowed back a nasty comment as he neared the four, his eyes beginning to burn slightly from the smoke.

Giving Harry and Ron a nod, Draco addressed the twins, "Moody gave the mission the all-clear. We will leave tomorrow night at approximately nine and should return around one in the morning. Does that sound good?" Draco finished, noticing that this news had sparked Ron and Harry's attention.

"You're going out on a mission tomorrow night?" Harry demanded.

Draco nodded, affirming that that was what he had just said.

"Where are you going?" Ron asked, a bit too casually.

Raising an eyebrow, Draco replied, "Confidential, Weasley." Upon seeing Ron's eyes move towards his brothers, Draco continued, "And don't even try bothering Fred and George about it; they don't know anything."

The boys continued to talk aimlessly, the conversation meandering onto different topics until it reached the real heart and soul of any masculine conversation: Quidditch.

Suddenly, Harry stood, scraping his chair back loudly and standing on it. The jet-haired young man cupped his hands around his mouth and yelled loudly, "Hey!"

The room immediately went silent, the low murmur of voices echoing from the smoky depths of the corners cutting off as quickly as if someone had merely touched a mute button. Ron looked up at his friend, his blue eyes narrowing in confusion, his broad mouth set in a grim line.

Harry, his hands still cupped to his mouth, yelled to the now alert crowd hidden in the smoky vastness of the room, "There's a Quidditch match tomorrow! Chudley Cannons versus the Falmouth Falcons! Who says we go see it?"

The proposal was greeted with a chorus of baritone cheers from the murky depths of the room as Ron stood from his chair and cheered in excitement.

Shaking his head, Draco edged his way out of the smoggy room. He'd always been a fan of the Tutshill Tornados, and, of course, the all-female team, the Holyhead Harpies.

Stepping into the clear, desolate hall, Draco gasped a breath of fresh air before padding down the hall, his footsteps echoing down the bare, paneled walls. As he passed a portrait of Dumbledore, the image nodded, peering over its half-moon spectacles and smiling gently down on Draco as Fawkes took flight from his left forearm, a larger version of the vibrant tattoo nestled on Draco's wrist.

As he entered the next room, his eyes grazing over a mosaic of faces, searching for those of his team, he finally spotted Lupin sitting in a corner, his arms propped up in a soft, leather chair as he read a dusty, leather bound book, the tall lamp next to him casting an orange glow on his face.

Draco sat quietly next to the weary man, watching his face as he calmly set aside his book and turned to face Draco. Staring into his deep brown eyes, Draco saw something unusual: a spark. Normally, Lupin was nearly as great as Draco when it came to covering his emotions, but not tonight.

Grinning, Draco knew it must be important, "What, Lupin?"

Lupin's face pulled into a happy smile, transforming his weary visage into one overflowing with youth, "I'm going to ask Tonks to marry me."

Draco felt his heart leap for joy for the couple as he reached out and shook Lupin's hand, pumping it with force, congratulating the young couple. Smiling, Draco asked, "Why so suddenly?"

Lupin reached back to the side table for his book, lifting the soft cover gently, unsettling dust particles and setting them afloat into the air as he answered, his voice once again assuming it's tone of one who has seen far too much in the world, of a wise, old man, "One never knows when the end is near. We must make the best of what we have and enjoy the time we have left."

Draco nodded thoughtfully, silently agreeing and seeing how well this saying pertained to his own life, before he continued to tell Lupin that Moody had approved their mission.

Draco was sitting in a blank, empty room, devoid of all sources of entertainment, color, or comfort. There was nothing. He knew nothing, felt nothing, saw nothing. Nothing but white, blindingly bright and pure. He was crouched in a corner, if it _was_ a corner. He couldn't tell for sure exactly what his back was resting against, the white went on forever, never ceasing, never ending, never turning, never stopping. There was no end and no beginning to the large, white expanse.

Somewhere in the back of his mind, Draco realized that this was the sort of room he would see at St. Mungo's, if he had ever taken a trip down to crazy-town. It was the sort of room where they locked up the crazy, the mentally unbalanced, and the dangerous. People like Bellatrix, his aunt.

A voice echoed through the room, one word, repeating and echoing over and over until Draco wasn't sure when it had started, or whether it had existed the entire time. "Danger."

The scene suddenly twisted and reshaped. Draco was standing outside, his body shaking as water rained down from the heavens above. He was standing in the practice field and in front of him stood four figures. The sky above was a roiling, angry dark cloud, veiling everything in darkness. Turning to the first, Draco saw his father, Lucius; his platinum hair long and silky as before, leaning with one white-gloved hand on his silver, snake-head cane, where, invisible to the human eye, Draco's blood speckled and dirtied the gleaming metal. The second was Blaise, standing defiantly in his Death Eater robes, his eyes narrowed as he refused to do the Dark Lord's bidding. The third was Ginny, her body crumpled on the ground, blood staining her outfit, her red hair spreading around her pale face like a bloodied halo, looking the same as the day Draco had found her in Diagon. And the fourth figure was Harry Potter, his emerald eyes blazing behind his glasses, staring directly at Draco, as his right hand clutched a letter angrily, knuckles turning white as he crumpled it in his hand.

"Danger." The voice repeated again. Draco knew he recognized it, but before he could positively identify it, he was sitting bolt right up in his bed, a cold sweat pouring down his back as he tried to calm his breathing.

Running through the bare halls, Draco silently made his way through his list of teammates as he opened doors and quickly tossed piles of laundered clothing in at the shocked occupants before continuing his journey. It was nearly eight at night, they had to leave in an hour, and no one was dressed yet. He and Ginny had just finished cleaning the mountains of gear left from the last outing.

Throwing open the last door, Draco tossed a black shirt and pants in a room before taking off down the hall. As his brain registered what he had just seen in the room, Draco stopped. The last room had been Lupin's.

As he had tugged open the door, a young couple had been across the room, staring lovingly into one another's eyes. The man had been down on one knee, his weary face suddenly looking youthful as the woman held out her hand to him and he slipped the ring onto her finger, her face blushing as she smiled down at him, her purple hair covering her eyes.

Draco grinned in happiness for them before jogging down a few flights of stairs and hurrying into his room. Opening the door, Draco saw Ginny, her back to him as she pulled on a shoe. She was bent over slightly, her black shirt pulling up by a fraction, the dark mass of black yielding to reveal a small strip of creamy, alabaster skin.

Draco cleared his throat, steeling his mind, before closing the door and walking further into the room, grabbing his gear off the bed. Knowing they were rushed for time, Draco didn't fool with privacy and instead shrugged his pants off, pulling on the black ones he had made. Tugging his shirt above his head, a soft chill biting his bare skin before Draco quickly replaced it with a soft, silky black material. Draco pulled his boots on before turning to see Ginny, fully dressed, sitting with her legs crossed on her soft, white bed, brown eyes on Draco.

Smirking, Draco asked, "Watching me again?"

Ginny responded with an unashamed, "Yep.", before she stood up and grabbed Draco's hand, bounding down the three flights of stairs to the kitchen.

As they pushed open the door, they simultaneously dropped one another's hand. Inside, the Trio sat around the kitchen table, their heads pressed together as they whispered conspiratorially. Harry looked angry, as if a storm were brewing inside his mind. Draco supposed this was because Moody had denied permission to attend the Quidditch match. Hermione's face was calm, but set resolutely, as if she had made a hard decision but finally felt at peace with it, and Ron's face had turned green, contrasting greatly with his ginger hair.

Seeing that their team members were not inside, Draco and Ginny slipped out of the kitchen unnoticed and headed outside to the practice field. The rain still hadn't relented and they ran along the side of the house, where the roof hung out, to avoid becoming soaked. The ground underfoot was mushy, mud squishing upwards, flooding the dead grass, with every footstep they took.

The door to the weapons room slid gently open as Draco removed his hand from the wall, to reveal six silhouettes, all staring back with a fire blazing in their eyes. Draco strode into the room, crossing to the far wall and strapping two black daggers to his belt, securing his wand in place, before turning towards his team.

"Let's go."

The team faded into the shadows of the woods surrounding the old house as Draco quickly ran over their plan, his pale hair hanging damply to his forehead; the rain still hadn't stopped. They had left Headquarters an hour and a half ago with the entire Order waving them off and wishing the best of luck. Even the Trio had said goodbye, standing at the front of the waving crowd with the same expressions on their faces as Draco had seen in the kitchen. The walk to their destination had been in the opposite direction of muggle London and had taken longer. They couldn't apparate, the Death Eaters were in the Ministry of Magic and monitoring all apparition.

Brushing a branch out of the way of his line of vision, Draco scrutinized the house. It was made of an old, rotting wood, white paint peeling off the panels. The windows were dark, but for one light illuminating a widow to the left, where Bill and Charlie would break in. The yard was overgrown and tangled, providing excellent coverage for any one nearing the house. It seemed to be abandoned, but Draco knew better. Inside were at least six Death Eaters, unaware the ambush was approaching.

Quickly whispering instructions, Draco sent the other three teams to their designated posts to wait for the signal. Weaving their way through the weeds and tall grass, Draco and Ginny silently approached the back door as the sky overhead roared with thunder. As they stood directly outside the magical barrier surrounding the house, Draco readied his wand. The barrier kept anyone from approaching more than twenty feet from the house in any direction, it's energy was almost palpable, Draco thought that if he concentrated enough, he could hear a soft, electric hum, like the ones found on the muggle barriers.

Breathing in a deep breath, Draco griped his wand and then pushed his magic towards the barrier. There was no spell necessary, it was merely a competition of will, to see who would break first.

The barrier shattered under his pressure and Draco signaled to Ginny to send the message to the others. Ginny quickly murmured to herself, sending a message through the tattoo to let the others know the barrier was broken and Fred and George should commence the operation.

They reached the back door just in time to hear a loud crash, the sound of Fred and George breaking down the door, followed by the familiar noise of the twins wreaking havoc. There was a loud bang and then the sound of many feet running towards different exits.

Draco nodded to Ginny and she quickly sent another message, the signal for the other two teams to enter. The sound of a second door being thrown open, closely followed by a third, echoed through the house before the footsteps began heading towards Draco and Ginny.

They got louder by the second and Draco started counting down the seconds before he would kick the door open.

_3…_ There was a loud scream from the room and the sound of breaking glass.

_2…_ More footsteps, almost as loud as the thunder rolling overhead.

_1…_ Draco kicked the door open, sending it flying into the face of a Death Eater, hitting him in the nose. The Death Eater stumbled backwards, bringing a hand to his nose, blood already flowing from it.

The Death Eaters looked wildly around, realizing that they were trapped, as Draco and Ginny stepped calmly into a small kitchen. There was a rickety table behind the Death Eaters, sitting on cracked, yellowing linoleum. The doors to the pantry hung open on their hinges, the counter beaten and warped. To Draco's left stood Charlie Weasley, an easy grin on his face. To Ginny's left were Lupin and Tonks, their wands pointed towards the Eaters. A mass of black cloaks his the twins, who were across from him, from Draco's view.

Most of the Eaters had fear, barely concealed, in their eyes. All but one. Draco knew this was the one Snape had told him about, Sofia, the one like Bellatrix. She stared calmly back at Draco, her black eyes cold and calculating. Her hair was a thick, dark mahogany, curling around her face. Her features would have been pretty, had they not held the eyes of a mad woman. Her mouth quickly twisted into an evil smirk as she drew her wand, pointing it at Draco, and the fight began.

Everything was a flurry of color and noise, spells flying everywhere. Draco ducked as the red burst of a Cruciatus flew from Sofia's wand. Firing back, Draco searched the room for anything that could give him leverage over the crazy witch. He saw nothing. There were bangs and explosions echoing from all around, shaking the floor a bit, but Draco never faltered. Keeping his eyes on Sofia, Draco edged towards her, backing her into a wall. The groups had dispersed as a few Eaters had tried to run to separate rooms. Ginny had been one of the ones to give chase.

"Well, well, well. Look what we have here! It's Draco Malfoy, the runaway heir to the high and mighty Malfoy throne! Oh, won't Daddy be so happy we found you?" Sofia said, ending her sentence in a maniacal laugh, eerily similar to Bellatrix's.

Draco smirked, "I don't go by Malfoy anymore."

Sofia's eyes widened in mock surprise. "Oh? Daddy won't be very happy, will he? Why don't we give him a call?" Sofia reached for the left sleeve of her dark cloak. Draco lunged for it, snatching her hand away, preventing her from calling the Dark Lord and his father.

"How about we settle this one on one? No need to get the grown-ups involved." Draco snarled, his face twisting in anger at the thought of his father.

"Oh, but Draco, they've been involved all along!" Sofia said, and, upon seeing Draco's confused face, continued with an evil laugh, "You're really that dense, aren't you? How the hell were _you_ the one to beat Lucius Malfoy?" Sofia said his name with great reverence, as if his name were a rare gemstone. "Don't you get it? Don't you remember when your friend Blaise died? Don't you remember the orders he was given?" Sofia said, her black eyes gleaming as Draco's face twisted in pain as he remembered Blaise; she was enjoying every second of this.

"Of course I remember that night." Draco spat, jerking on Sofia's arm a bit as he said it.

"Well then, tell me, what did they ask him to do?" Sofia asked, her voice full of malice as she tried to wrench free of Draco's grasp.

"They asked him to rape a girl." His voice was full of disgust as he spat the sentence out like venom.

Sofia's face lit with malicious pleasure, "Good. And why did they ask that?" She sounded like she were coaching a petulant child.

"Because her family had caused trouble for Voldemort." Draco said, his voice flat as he was immersed in that memory.

"Yes." Sofia hissed, not even bothering to tell Draco he wasn't worthy to say the Dark Lord's name. Maybe she wasn't like Bellatrix at all. "And who do you know who was raped by Death Eaters and whose family is in the Order?" Sofia asked, tapping her chin as if she herself were trying to remember.

Draco's silver eyes widened as the truth dawned on him. "Ginny." He whispered her name, fear filling his heart as erratic, broken thoughts entered his mind. It had been ordered. It wasn't just a coincidence. They were probably still after her.

"Alas, the truth dawns!" Sofia hissed, before laughing another cruel laugh. Suddenly, a fatal stream of light broke off her laugh and her body slumped to the cracked, linoleum flooring with a thud. Draco stood above her, his wand pointed at her as his chest heaved in anger before turning and running to another room, searching for Ginny.

He spotted the redhead in a dark study, standing over the body of a young man. The lightning crashed outside as Draco approached, his eyes adjusting to the dim as he saw crooked shelves and torn books, a spindly desk in the corner, a broken lamp upon it's surface, glass glittering the ground.

The young man lay on the ground, clutching his wand, his face youthful in death. Pale blue eyes stared toward the heavens, his brown hair tussled.

Draco put his hands on Ginny's shoulders and turned her to look at him, "Hey. What's wrong?"

Ginny stared up at him, her eyes big, as she responded, "Nothing. I don't feel bad for killing him. I had to. He would have killed other people if I didn't. He would have killed me. But… Merlin, he's just so little. He can't be older than sixteen." Ginny gestured towards the figure and Draco saw it. The youthful planes of the kid's face, the baby fat not yet gone from childhood, the clear, unwrinkled face of youth stared back at him, not the face of someone older.

Draco nodded solemnly, sliding his arm around Ginny's shoulder and guiding her out of the room.

The rest of the team had escaped relatively unscathed. Bill had been disarmed and had had to use his sword on his opponent. But it was Charlie who dealt the final blow, seeing that Bill was having a hard time, attacking from the back. As he said later, "The fool didn't know what hit him!"

Tonks had also been disarmed, and had lost her wand in the process. After shooting an arrow into the heart of her opponent, she had gone to help Lupin. They then spent fifteen minutes searching for her wand, the diamond ring sparkling on her left ring finger all the while.

Fred and George had double-teamed an opponent, forcing him into a corner, where he had then punched Fred in the face.

The team quickly retreated from the house, fading into the woods once again and beginning the long walk home. Above, the clouds still emptied their tears. Even with his heart so heavy with the weight of the truth, Draco wondered why they were still crying. The danger had passed, hadn't it?

The team trudged up the stairs, tracking mud into the house, their ears deaf to the nagging of Mrs. Weasley as she followed closely behind with her wand, scourgifying the floors where they stepped. They had entered the Headquarters to see a full house. Draco's eyes had widened by a fraction. It was nearly one in the morning, why was the Order still awake? His answer came to him as he registered their exhausted faces. They had been waiting to see the Division's arrival.

As soon as they walked into the door, the Order dissipated, all members heading off to their separate quarters after a long day.

Not nearly as long as ours, Draco thought drily.

As they reached the platform of the seconds floor, Draco murmured instructions to take the next day off, but he suspected it had fallen to deaf ears.

Draco and Ginny separated from the rest of the group at the next floor, with a mumbled 'Good job' and a few drowsy pats on the back.

Shoving on the door to the room, Draco dragged himself to his bed, taking off his muddy boots just before he laid his damp hair on a soft pillow and his exhausted body succumbed to the pleasant fingers of sleep, sinking into their grasp.

The thunder rolled loudly, jarring the house and sending Draco flying from sleep. As he moaned in unhappiness and closed his eyes again, a faint sound reached his ears. A slight creak of a floorboard echoed through the quiet house, accompanied by a soft meow.

His heart feeling like it was set on fire, Draco slipped quickly out of bed and shook Ginny awake, whispering two words into her ear, barely able to hear his own words above the pounding of his own heart. Hearing the whispered warning, Ginny's terrified brown eyes flew open instantly, staring into Draco's worried face as his words echoed through both of their minds.

They're here.

That was mean, wasn't it? For all of you who enjoy my work with **Draco**, I have a new oneshot out, **A Beautiful Distraction**, and plan on writing two sequels to it. Hell, if you like any of my work, check out **my other stories.**

Thank you to those of you who reviewed last time:

-DeeCohan

-Smann 56377

-Naughty Nina (I told you I wasn't going to abandon this! Haha)

-XOXO-SethsImprint-OXOX

-Aikoyu Saotome

-Dracoginnylover24

-nina10966

-my bo.

.Northman

-kaikuduo

-Music24601

-noona1

I think that was the most reviews I have ever gotten for a chapter! Thank you so much! And thanks to those of you who have just picked up my story and reviewed for more than one chapter, it means the world to me!

Until next time, my faithful readers,

-Katy


	21. Burning

_Chapter 21: Burning_

_We are ready for the siege_

_We are armed up to the teeth_

_Be careful how you live and breathe_

_Release what's broken underneath_

_How many times do you wanna die?_

_How many ways do you wanna die?_

_Do you feel safe again? Look over your shoulder_

_Very carefully look over your shoulder_

_We can laugh about it now_

_We hope everything works out_

_Be careful how you lick your wounds_

_Believe that change is coming soon_

_How many times do you wanna die?_

_How many ways do you wanna die?_

_Do you feel safe again? Look over your shoulder_

_Very carefully look over your shoulder_

_You used to do a little, but a little won't fly_

_Right before you hit your prime_

_That's when we fell in love, but not the first time_

_Can I please you still?_

_Remain in your father's will_

_Or does it make you ill?_

_Let us bruise their knees_

_We went in straight for a defeat_

_You will be relieved_

_So relieved, so relieved to the flow, and desire_

_Bitter sparks to the friendly fire_

_Misery inspires_

_Your throwin' me cuts several times before_

_Never noticed the size of the flow_

_Make it be ignored_

_Do you feel safe again? Look over your shoulder_

_Carefully look over your shoulder_

_You said you believe, but believing won't fly_

_Right before you hit your prime_

_That's when we fell in love, but not the first time_

_And when it's all over and you open your eyes_

_You see the room turned on its side_

_And you'll be lying down and over on the floor; signed,_

_The Royal We (x8)_

_Love, The Royal We_

Footsteps quietly creaked through the Headquarters, the sounds of leather boots trying desperately, fruitlessly, to be silent as they tiptoed over the old creaky floorboards.

Wincing as every eerie footstep brought who he knew to be Bellatrix and another Death Eater, possibly his father, closer to where he and Ginny sat in the dark, Draco hurriedly whispered orders into the dark.

"Contact the team. Warn them. They have to get out safely. Tell them to help the rest of the Order. They need to get their weapons out of the room." Draco winced as a scream faintly echoed some floors below. The battle had started. Whoever was heading towards his room would be there soon. Draco grasped Ginny's arm and tugged her off of her bed, pushing her towards the corner of the room, beside the door.

Ginny stood in the dark corner in a soft silk and lace nightgown, reaching just above her knees as they shook slightly with fear, her bright, mussed hair illuminated as her wand tip began to glow softly and she whispered into the soft light, pressing it to her forearm. Draco checked his surroundings, forming a plan in his head, before slipping to the corner to join her.

Ginny's whispering ended just in time for Draco's keen ears to pick up another meow, this time just outside his room. Draco drew his wand, preparing himself for a fight, as the door creaked open, a sliver of light falling onto the floor directly in front of his bare feet. Pressing his back against the wall, Draco slowed his breath, feeling Ginny do the same as he saw the unmistakable aristocratic shadow of his father, proud and straight even in shadow-form.

His father stepped into the room, slowly edging his polished leather boots into the room as a snakehead cane and tailored suit followed, silvery pale hair falling over the back of the black ensemble.

As his father slipped into the dark room, Draco's mind involuntarily flashed backwards in time, his body reliving all those nights of gut-wrenching horror and fear as he was yanked out of bed and battered again and again by a man he had once held respect for.

Draco slid one bare foot forward onto the wood floor as a black cat darted before him. Lashing outwards, Draco quickly hit Bellatrix with a petrifying curse, watching with malicious glee as the small, scruffy cat, the tip of one of its ears missing, tensed and fell over as a bright flash hit it.

Red light filled the darkened room as Bellatrix was quickly stunned. Lucius' back tensed before he spun around to face his son, his Malfoy mask sliding into place over his stone-cold grey eyes. The scene was eerily similar to the one of the night when Draco had run away, but now Lucius was the one caught in the act, the one trying to destroy an organization, the one who had to be stopped at all costs. Regret welled up in Draco's stomach at the sight of his father; he should have stunned Lucius before Bellatrix, now he actually had to battle his own father. Again.

But it had had to be done. Bellatrix was fast and deadly, she would have been able to change into her human form in the time it took Draco's pupils to dilate and his eyes to readjust to the dark after the bright jet of light took out Lucius. Bellatrix was the psychotic one, the one who would give no mercy, even to family. Wasn't she?

Draco gulped as he stared directly into his father's eyes, the whites red with what Draco guessed to be booze. Lucius' features were as fine and haughty as ever, his nose perfectly straight, his pure white teeth gleaming even in the dark, his back and shoulders straight even as he leaned on his silver serpent head cane.

Swallowing the fear that was welling up inside his stomach and twisting it into a bunch of unrecognizable nerves, Draco lifted his chin slightly and smirked, "Hello, Father."

Lucius' face didn't move; his eyebrows didn't lift in feign surprise, his lips didn't twist at the understated greeting, his eyes didn't seem to register Draco's presence, instead aiming a kick at Bellatrix's stunned form, sending the dirty feline skidding across the room, before he responded, "Hello, Draco. Bellatrix had told me you were lying with dogs–" Lucius broke his sentence off as his eyes flicked towards Ginny, standing behind Draco, then continued, his voice hiding anger and disgust behind a veil of smooth sultriness, "–But I had had no idea how many fleas these mutts carried."

As his father's eyes coldly narrowed at the sight of Ginny's red hair, Draco instinctively found himself stepping in front of her, hiding her from his father's view, as his mind flashed back to hours before when Sofia Milieuxe had whispered the truth into his ear, that Ginny's rape wasn't a coincidence, before his mind flashed even further back, twisting and warping through time until he was lying on the cold, stone floor of a dungeon, a shaft of moonlight illuminating the broken, indistinguishable face of the girl in the white dress as Lucius' boot stamped out her final attempt at life, like a feeble flame being snuffed out.

Draco's attempt at shielding Ginny didn't go unnoticed by his father. Lucius' eyes narrowed further as they flickered back to his son, cold grey stone piercing everything they touched.

Lucius' face was shielded in shadow, casting an eerie pattern down it as Draco could only see part of his jaw, set squarely as he controlled his emotions, a sliver of his thin, aristocratic Malfoy nose, and his shining, silver hair.

His cold, grey eyes watched his son, calculatingly, before he spoke, his voice smooth and suave as ever, "I hadn't realized how protective you are of your bitch Draco." Lucius smirked as his son scowled as he insulted the youngest Weasley.

Draco felt anger rear it's ugly head inside its chest. He had forgotten exactly what it felt like to hold such hate. When his father wasn't around, constantly threatening his life, while he had been preoccupied with training the team, it had been surprisingly easy to forget exactly what hate felt like. But now, hate felt as if it were again clutching his heart, sinking its fatal claws into the thrumming muscle as his chest contracted in fear and anger around it. His arms began to shake, the muscles pulled so tightly that they were trembling.

Blindingly fast, he drew his wand, so fast that one moment it was clutched at his side, the next it was inches away from Lucius' face. He had moved so fast, he had caught his father off-guard. Lucius' constant grey eyes, unfazed by anything and everything, any opponent he had ever faced, had widened by a fraction of an inch before his gloved hand pressed slightly down on the emerald crested eyes of the silver serpent cane and Lucius pulled his own wand slowly from the depths of the black walking stick.

Suddenly, two simultaneous jets of light brightened the room as they flew through the air and hit one another, neither making contact with their intended target. Draco cursed under his breath as he searched the coils of his brain for a way to escape the room safely with Ginny.

His heart thudding, Draco watched his father's face for any clue of what he was planning. In the hallways, Draco heard the sounds of battle: screaming as people were injured by deadly jets of light, footsteps thrumming as their owners fled the scene, trying desperately to escape the bloodbath, crashes as spells missed their intended targets. Behind him, Draco felt Ginny move, edging closer to him. He could feel her eyes watching Lucius, searching for a weakness.

She didn't know what Draco was already aware of, what he had noticed about his father years before. Lucius had no weaknesses. There was no one to use as leverage against him, nothing he wanted out of the world but to sit back and watch it burn.

As the deafening silence reigned while outside screams still persisted, Draco decided on a plan of attack. He would talk until he found an opening; he needed to gather intelligence on the Death Eaters. They would need information if they survived this encounter.

Swallowing his fear once again, Draco steadied his wand so that it appeared it was merely lazily sitting in his palm while still pointing at Lucius' face, before casually remarking, "Father, how long has it been? A few months? How is Narcissa?"

Lucius cleared his throat, "Your mother was crushed to learn of your…" Lucius trailed off, choosing his words. "Vacation. She wouldn't eat for days. Had the house elves worried sick. But she is happy to hear that you will be coming home soon."

Draco stifled a scornful laugh. It was likely Narcissa hadn't noticed that Draco was missing, she was too busy staring into the mirror at her own reflection, trying to forget the marriage she found herself trapped in. And Draco was hardly on a vacation, trying desperately to avoid the Death Eaters; Lucius was aware of this. Lucius planned on taking Draco home; but he knew the only way he would be going home was in a body bag. Neither of them wanted Draco to live to see Malfoy Manor again. Lucius wouldn't want to have Draco around to insult the Dark Lord again and Draco would rather be dead than return to his previous living conditions.

Feeling his hands tense, Draco discretely took a deep breath to calm his nerves before replying, "I'm not sure I'm ready to go home yet, Father. But do give your regards to Mother, will you?"

Lucius' grey eyes gleamed in anger. No one ever said no–however indirectly– to Lucius Malfoy. No matter how angry his eyes were though, Lucius maintained his Malfoy mask and his tone was smooth as he replied, "Oh Draco, you mother will be so disappointed."

Fighting the urge to smile, Draco commented, "I know she'll just be heartbroken. But, you see Father; I'm just having too much fun with the Order. I can't leave now."

At the mention of his progeny joining the Order, Lucius finally snapped. His stone-cold grey eyes filled with a hate so incredible, Draco had the urge to look away. Lucius' face grew red as a vein throbbed on his forehead and along his neck. Draco feared his father would snap his wand as his hands clutched into fists.

Draco's mercury eyes widened in fear as he heard a small whimper from behind him. If Lucius Malfoy could frighten Draco, no doubt Ginny was scared out of her mind.

Suddenly, Lucius threw a curse at his son, a red jet of light flashing through the air. Draco pushed Ginny out of the way of the Cruciatus, jumping in the opposite direction as the curse blew a hole through the wall.

Straightening up from the ground, Draco brushed dust off of his pants as he laughed. "Another Cruciatus, Father? You've got to be a little more original."

Draco threw a spell at his father, watching unhappily as the older man gracefully dodged it and it hit the other side of the room, blowing a gaping hole the size of two men through the wall. Plaster and debris rained down on the three figures as a chilly night breeze blew into the room. Ginny was on her feet, her red hair blowing madly around, pushed by the wind as the large. Glancing outside, Draco saw it was just past three in the morning. Draco recognized the time as the Devil's Hour.

Turning on his father, the entire room was erupted into spells and curses, flying past his face and ears as he shot others towards Lucius. Ginny had joined the fray. She shot just as many spells at Lucius, but he still stood, holding his own against the two Order members. As he shot yet another spell at his father, Draco realized he wouldn't be able to defeat him tonight. It wasn't possible. Draco might be able to escape again, but Lucius wouldn't die tonight.

As his mercury eyes flickered over to Ginny, he watched as she fiercely battled his father, her red hair whipping around her face as she thought up every curse and spell she could, dodging every beam of light that flashed towards her. Flitting his eyes back to his father, Draco desperately sought an escape. Throwing the sectumsempra curse at his father, Draco's mind calculated how much of a distraction he would need to escape the room. The hallways were crowded with battling Order members and Death Eaters alike; he couldn't escape through the halls. They would have to go through the hole the blast had caused.

But there was one problem. They were three floors from the ground.

Draco threw himself on the ground as he dodged another Cruciatus. As he landed on the ground, he found himself beside his bed. Before he lifted himself onto his knees, Draco caught a glimpse of something that gave him hope. A grin spreading onto his features, a plan forming in his brain, Draco stood to face his father once again.

Glancing over at Ginny's beautiful form as she sent her infamous bat-boogey hex at a red-faced Lucius, Draco took a deep breath and sent the plan to her with a warm tingle and the scrawling of red type. His wand on his forearm, Draco flicked his mercury eyes over to his father in time to se Lucius grin wickedly.

Draco felt his heartbeat pick up even further, racing at a pace trains couldn't maintain, his blood rushing in his ears as a Cruciatus curse flashed from his father's wand. He was frozen; he couldn't jump out of the way. He would take the hit. The blindingly bright red flash consumed his vision; it became the only thing he could see until his body was hit with pain. He felt as if his world was splintered into shards, his vision going fuzzy, as he fell to the ground with a thud.

Ginny threw her bat-boogey hex at Lucius, staring into his venomous grey eyes, his silvery hair whipping around his face as the wind from outside blew towards them. Glancing to the right, Ginny saw Draco staring at her and tried desperately to preoccupy Lucius. Cursing mentally, Ginny weaved more spells, increasing her pace as she frantically tried to distract Lucius, but he saw through her ruse and turned towards his son.

Then, several things happened at once and Ginny somehow noticed them all, as if she were moving in slow motion. Lucius sent an evil, bone-chilling grin towards his heir, followed by a blasting Cruciatus as Ginny felt a warm tingling on her forearm. Glancing down, Ginny read the short message and smiled.

_Escape. Evade Lucius. Ignore me. Meet you at exit._

Pain. Pure, torturous, and simple, it flashed through his body and mind before Draco found the strength to control himself and fight his way out of the curse. Sparing only a seconds worry that Ginny was able to decipher his cryptic message, Draco pushed his mind against the barriers of the curse, where he could feel it resting on him, as if it were some great, deadly demon, tearing and ripping at his flesh and mind. A Cruciatus spawns not only physical pain, but also mental agony.

Draco had only been able to escape the torturous claws of his father's Cruciatus a few times and hoped he would be able to pull it off this time. As sweat beads poured down his face, Draco tried desperately to feel nothing, as his body writhed in agony and his eyes squeezed themselves shut.

Clenching his jaw, Draco fought to control his movements, mentally attacking the place when he knew the curse sat, sinking its toxic fangs into his mind. As he shouldered his way towards the monster, he felt it give way to his determination and power. Just one more shove, Draco thought, as he pushed, using all of the strength of his mind, and felt the curse fall off. As it fell, his body relaxed, muscles giving way to the hardwood floor beneath his body.

He wanted so, so badly to relax, to lay down on the floor and sleep, to give in to the darkness and lose his mind to it. Instead, Draco rolled to the side, quickly slipping his hand under his bed and grabbing the object he knew sat beneath it, feeling the sleek wood in his hand as he ran towards Lucius headlong.

Seeing what his son was attempting, Lucius shot off curses blindly, maddeningly, simply trying to hit and kill his son. Gathering momentum, Draco jumped into the air and slid the sleek broom beneath his body, swerving to avoid his father's rampant curses. As he reached the hole in the wall, the exit, Draco reached his hand out to Ginny, grabbing her thin, porcelain wrist and pulling her onto the broom as he flew out of the room and into the night.

As quickly as they had gotten on, they dismounted, dropping quickly to the ground to help the other Order members. Headquarters was on fire, screams and terrified shrieks clouding the air as much as the thick, oily smoke produced by the inferno.

Draco glanced around and ran towards the wall, slapping his hand upon the white wooden slats as the door to the Weapons Room opened. Glancing inside, he saw that the rest of the Infernal Division had already collected their weapons, none of them had had as a hard a time escaping their rooms.

Tossing the throwing knives to Ginny, Draco stared up at the burning building, at a loss as to what to do. Finally, swallowing his fear, Draco ran to the door, throwing it open and rushing inside.

The entire first floor was covered in smoke, the flickering flames of the fire casting eerie shades of red and orange on the walls. The wood beneath his feet was warm with the fire's heat, the air heavy and thick as beads of sweat rolled down his face, matting his fair hair to his face. Behind him, the door slammed shut as Ginny gave a cough and followed him into the blaze.

Draco ran to a nearby room, kicking the door open and searching for Order members and Death Eaters alike. Seeing no one, he continued down the hall, Ginny following him on her guard, prepared to take on any enemy they encountered.

As they reached the second floor, Draco kicked open the door to another room, this time surprised to see a young woman, slumped to the ground on her knees, her brown eyes wide with fear as a masked Death Eater held her thick, raven hair, his wand to her temple. Draco immediately drew his wand, pointing it at the masked face.

"Drop your wand and leave or I kill her." The Death Eater's gravelly voice boomed through the empty room as the fire crackled on the first floor.

Draco calculated the situation, wondering if he could possibly hit the Death Eater before he killed her. Could he? As doubts began to swirl in his mind, his wand lowered, his hand trembling as he breathed in the soot from the fire.

"Fuck that." Ginny growled before shooting a spell at the Death Eater, a silver beam of light transforming magnificently into an arrow as it pierced the masked man's heart.

The body of the man slumped forward as the woman shrieked, pushing herself out of the way as his body fell to the floor, shaking the boards slightly. Ginny pushed into the room as the woman burst into tears, sobbing into her thin hands, her dark hair falling across her face. Ginny wrapped her arms around the woman as she rested her face on Ginny's chest. Using her soft, pink lips to make shushing noises, Ginny stroked the woman's hair comfortingly before she abruptly pulled away and stuttered, her voice cracking with tears, "My– My baby! He's on the fourth fl–floor! Please, you have to get him out of there!"

Draco's heart froze momentarily. The fourth floor could be on fire; he had no idea. Nodding resolutely, Draco ordered Ginny to take the woman outside to safety while he found the child.

Of course, being Ginny, she had to protest, "What? You can't go off by yourself! The building could collapse! I have to come with you!"

"And then what, Ginny? We leave her here? We can't do that and you know it. Take her outside to safety and stay there." Draco ordered, putting strength and power into the last two words before he turned and sprinted up the stairs to the next floor.

His bare feet pounding as he ran up the flights of stairs, Draco finally reached the fourth floor, his heart pounding in his chest. His head swiveling from side to side, trying to decide which way to go first, Draco opted for the shorter hall. Turning down the right, Draco sprinted to the end of the hall and kicked down the doors, his eyes searching in vain for the child, his ears listening desperately for the cry of a child, but hearing only the creak of the timbers above as they threatened to crash down.

Kicking a door down, Draco felt the warm tingling of a message on his forearm. Looking down, he saw a message from who he knew could only be Ginny. _Hurry and find the child. We need your help outside now! _

As he was throwing his shoulder against one of the last doors on the fourth floor, the sot mew of a child reached his ears. Whipping his head around, Draco spied the room he thought it had come from. Running over to the room, he forced the door open and stepped into the room to see the infant, wrapped in a soft blanket with roses on it, sitting in a polished dark wood crib, a lacy canopy parting softly over it.

As he approached, the child– a girl, he thought– looked up at him with large blue eyes, watching his every move. Sliding his arms under her soft body, Draco whispered softly to her, trying to comfort her, as he rested her against his chest and quickly moved out of the room. As he strode quickly down the hall, the floor overhead creaked again, cracking under the weight. His mercury eyes flicking worriedly upwards, Draco rushed down the stairs with the child.

As he passed the other floors, he knew he couldn't search for more survivors because the roof would soon collapse. As he reached the first floor, the building began to collapse. Fiery beams were crashing to the ground as he ran towards the exit, his hand tangled in the soft curls of the baby in his arms as he tried to give her what measly protection he could provide.

The roof cracked overhead again and Draco jumped out of the way just in time to narrowly avoid being flattened by a falling wooden beam, sparks flying up as it landed heavily into the floor. As Draco reached the door, he grabbed the handle, barely holding back a scream as it scalded his hand. Shaking it off, Draco kicked the door open, running out of the blazing headquarters and onto the dark grass as he coughed on the smoke he had inhaled, the building collapsing behind him.

Searching in the darkness, Draco spotted the mother of the child running towards him, tears steaming down her face. Handing the child to the mother and nodding absentmindedly to her praises of thanks, Draco searched the dark for Ginny. Where was she?

As soon as he had wondered, an answer came in the form of a flare being shot into the sky. Seeing it, Draco took off towards the woods, where the flare had appeared, a sense of déjà vu and fear knotting itself into his stomach.

Running through the woods, Draco bounded around trees and silently crept over crushed leaves, trying to reach the spot where he knew he would find Ginny. And where there was Ginny, there would be trouble.

Draco skidded to a halt as he reached the edges of a circle of light. Searching the scene, he saw Lupin, Tonks, and Ginny, all in fighting mode, facing a group of Death Eaters. Lupin was standing in front of Tonks, his wand pointing at the ground of Eaters as they laughed evilly in their black capes and white masks. The laughter didn't surprise Draco, it was easy to laugh at your enemies–no matter how lethal– if your face was hidden from their view. That's what he had always experienced, at least.

As his eyes took in the scene, one of the Death Eaters suddenly pointed his wand as a jet of green light spilled out of it, blinding the entire group. Draco felt his entire body panic, he knew that green light too well.

As the light faded and Draco's eyes adjusted to the darkness once again, he sighed in relief as he saw Ginny was still standing, unharmed. But Lupin wasn't.

Tonks, her purple hair hanging from her head, shielding her face, was one her knees, her hands on his chest as she screamed out his name, desperately calling to a man whom had already been taken by death. She continued to call out his name, the name of her lover, until her voice gave in to racking sobs. Tonks curled her left fist, balling Lupin's grey t-shirt in it.

As she did so, a small glint caught Draco's eye and he felt his heart break.

The ring. He had forgotten about the ring. In all the pandemonium, Draco had forgotten that they had gotten engaged just hours before.

Draco saw movement to his right. The Death Eaters would strike again, they didn't respect the dead, they'd take advantage of Tonks' weakness. Draco stepped into the light, putting himself between the Death Eaters and the mourning Tonks. As he did so, readying his wand for any attacks, he felt Ginny step beside him. Preparing to strike, he was stopped by a soft chuckle.

Flashing his mercury eyes to the masked figures, Draco searched for the source of the sound. Above his head, the tall oak trees creaked as the wind, unfelt by the people below, blew strongly while the fire in Headquarters still blazed behind them.

As Draco stared at the masked faces, searching desperately for any sign of identification, the chuckle arose again.

"Draco, don't tell me you've forgotten your uncle's face?" The Death Eater in the middle asked tauntingly.

His stomach dropping at the sound of the voice, Draco focused his eyes on the lead Death Eater, who he now knew to be Rodolphus. Clearing his throat, Draco made small talk with his uncle, trying to ignore the fact that Lupin laid dead three feet behind him. Talking was a key part to dueling as a Death Eater; they were chatty people and liked to distract their opponent by bragging.

"I can't really see your face behind that childish mask, now can I, Uncle?" Draco responded, a smirk scrawling onto his lips.

Rodolphus laughed, tossing back his masked face and howling at the moon like the wolf he was named for. Rodolphus was nearly the opposite of Lucius; while Draco's scathing comments about masks and Dark Marks would infuriate his father, Rodolphus would always laugh.

"I've missed that sarcasm, Draco, I really have. Your father, as humorous as he is, just doesn't have your wit."

Now it was Draco's turn to laugh as he gave a short, hard snort, "You're the only one who has missed me then."

"So you've talked to your father, then?" Rodolphus asked, smirking.

"Yes, and what a pleasant conversation that was. I had to–"

"Draco! What are you doing? This man just killed Lupin and now you're catching up with him?" Tonks screamed at Draco, cutting off his sentence, as she cradled Lupin's dead body in her arms.

Draco immediately swallowed his words. Perhaps it seemed insensitive, but this was how he fought with people he knew. It was a harder battle, facing someone he knew, because he knew their weaknesses, but they also knew his. Pretending to have a polite conversation with them was a way in which he could watch them and learn a few things before they fought. It was what he had been taught. But he didn't tell Tonks this, he didn't get the chance, because at that moment she jumped onto her feet and marched towards him, her wand drawn.

Tonks' oval face was pale, her blue eyes rimmed in red as tears streamed down her face. Her hair, once purple, had turned to a black color with misery and now hung limply at the sides of her face. Her nose had become pink and started to run and she bit her lips, holding back sobs, as she advanced, wearing only a baggy grey t-shirt, which Draco assumed had belonged to Lupin.

As her grip tightened on her wand, Draco saw what she was planning. Quickly, he fired off a few spells at the Death Eaters before throwing a shield up between the two parties, yelling at Ginny to hold Tonks back.

Ginny obeyed, quickly wrapping her hands around the older woman's thin arms and tugging them behind her back. Draco strode towards Tonks, raking his hands through his hair as he explained to her, "I wasn't fraternizing with the enemy. I haven't forgotten which side I'm on. This is how I fight." Tonks started to struggle against Ginny's grip as Draco pointed out to the middle Death Eater, Rodolphus. "You see that man? He's my, and your, uncle. He knows my weaknesses and strengths. By talking to him, I can examine any possible injuries he has without having to fight–"

Again, Draco was interrupted, but this time by Ginny as she yelled, "Draco I can't hold her any longer!"

Tonks broke through Ginny's grip and dashed towards where the Death Eaters were pounding spells against Draco's shield. Draco grabbed her arm, holding it tightly as he growled, "What were you going to do, Tonks? What are you going to fight them? All three of them, without backup or a plan?"

Tonks turned her face from Draco, shielding her blue eyes with her now-black hair as she tried to yank her arm free. As Draco's grip didn't yield to her struggles, she turned her face back to his and looked defiantly into his eyes as she hissed, "I didn't plan on fighting."

Draco turned and pushed Tonks into a tree, forcing her back against it so she could only see his face. As his hands clenched the tops of her arms, anger and stress rolling off his back in waves, Draco whispered harshly to the young woman, "You're not the only one upset by this, Tonks. You're not the only one who saw him die. Ginny and I were there too. You're not alone in this."

As Draco's words faded from his lips, Ginny screamed his name in alarm moments before the sounds of a thunderous crash reached his ears. Draco whipped around, spinning to see that Rodolphus and the rest of the Death Eaters had broken through the barrier and were advancing, their billowing robes giving them the sinister appearance of floating above the ground. Ginny readied her wand, fiercely tossing her red hair as Tonks scrambled behind Draco, aiming her wand at the advancing figures. Draco spared only a moment to be thankful that she had abandoned her suicide mission before readying his wand as well as a slight breeze chilled his exposed skin; he hadn't realized it before, but he was wearing only a pair of loose pajama pants.

As the wind tugged at his bond hair, Draco shot off the first spell, setting a few trees on fire as the Death Eaters jumped out of the way. As the battlefield erupted into streaks of spells and curses, Draco quickly forgot where he was and focused all his power on sending, blocking, aiming, and dodging those deadly beams of light.

Hitting the ground to avoid having his ear blown off by a spell, Draco shot another curse at Rodolphus as the fire began to blaze around them. As he straightened up, Draco heard the sound of footsteps behind him. Glancing over his shoulder, he saw nearly ten Death Eaters advancing, lead by a figure he knew to be Lucius. Cursing to himself, Draco jumped out and turned, his mind desperately spinning a plan of escape.

Turning towards Rodolphus, Draco heard a gasp from Ginny as she saw Lucius moving through the woods behind them.

Draco quickly ran towards Ginny, grabbing Tonks' arm and dragging her with him. Standing with the two women, Draco summoned all of his focus and power, concentrating solely on the powerful spell he was going to cast. Shouting the name of the spell, Draco aimed his wand not at the Death Eaters, but at the ground.

A silver beam of light shot from his wand tip, hitting the ground and spreading outwards from the point where the three figures stood, concealing the ground like a fog as it quickly moved towards the Death Eaters. As it hit them, all fifteen of the Death Eaters were blown backwards, hitting trees and branches as they were knocked off their feet by the powerful spell.

Draco grabbed Ginny's hand and started running towards the woods, his feet pounding into the dirt and leaf-covered ground. As he dashed past the fallen Rodolphus, sprinting deeper into the woods, some of the fallen Eaters began to stir. His heart was pounding, his mind racing, as he tried to outrun the unstoppable. They would wake up soon, he knew, and they would pursue them.

Ginny had grabbed Tonks' wrist and was pulling her as they weaved through the trees, for which Draco was thankful. Tonks' face was wet with tears and she looked as if she would merely lie down and sink into a coma if Ginny hadn't been dragging her through the woods.

His breath was coming out in short bursts, the air he expelled visible in the cold, as Draco turned his head, glancing over his shoulder only to see Lucius, his mask having fallen off in the blast, running after him, his wand pointed. Draco pushed Ginny and Tonks behind a tree trunk as he jumped behind another, peeking behind it as he watched for Lucius' next move.

As his father threw a curse at him, Draco ducked, the tree splintering over his bare, muscled back as the curse missed its intended target. Standing upright, Draco pointed his wand at the Death Eaters and produced a lusty, flaming red jet of light before transforming it into a knife, watching as the red knife followed its path and embedded itself into the chest of an unsuspecting Death Eater.

To his right, Ginny threw what Draco knew to be a dark curse at another Death Eater, causing his limbs to explode into flames. Draco sent another curse at Rodolphus, one he had learned from Dolohov, with a purple streak of flames. Rodolphus bent over in pain as the curse delivered internal injury similar to that of being smashed by a train, before he passed out in the dried leaves.

The Death Eaters didn't spare a second glance at their comrade, but the intensity of the battle increased as it always did when someone fell. Draco was soon sending spells as he lay on his stomach, trying to avoid the barrage of curses he was receiving. Glancing over, he saw Ginny doing the same. Tonks suddenly jumped upwards in a flash of black hair, sending off several of curses in only a few seconds. The speed with which she moved was something Draco had never seen from her.

Several of her curses hit Death Eaters, killing them instantly. Her blue eyes blazing, Tonks shouted the words of the reducto curse, hitting two of the Death Eaters as their bodies were dismembered by the explosive curse.

As she pointed her polished wand at Lucius, Draco's father's stony eyes narrowed. Draco jumped up, Ginny following his lead, and pointed his wand at his father, only to be hit with another volley of curses. Attempting to dodge the curses, Draco found himself back on the ground, covered in dried leaves, as his father whispered the fateful words that even Draco himself couldn't dodge.

"Avada Kedavra!"

Draco's silver eyes flitted upwards just in time to see Tonks fall, her black hair turning purple once again as her body hit the dirt with a sot thud. Holding his breath with hope, foolish, childish, useless hope, Draco waited for the lively, clumsy, purple-haired woman to move. But she didn't.

Instead, the Death Eaters moved, closing in on Draco and Ginny. Grabbing Ginny's wrist with his hand, he tugged her close to his body, and whispered softly in her ear, "Remember the technique you used first day of practice?"

He didn't have to say any more. Ginny nodded, her red locks dancing in the moonlit woods as she stepped away from him and drew her wand once again, sliding into an offensive position.

As Draco did the same, he heard his father give a short, cruel laugh.

"You really think anything you have will work against fifteen–" Lucius broke off as he looked around and saw the damage his son and his friends had caused before continuing, "Nine of us? You're outnumbered, Draco. You can't win. Why don't you just give up now?"

Draco smirked and replied, "Because father, along with your eyes and nose, I also inherited something else from you." Lucius raised a thin, blond eyebrow, asking his son to continue, "Your stubbornness. I'm not going to give up without a fight." Then, Draco started to weave the spell he knew would allow them to escape.

The power of the spell began to build as Ginny lent her power to it before the spell erupted in a shower of sparks and jets of light, creating a wall of fire between the two groups.

Through the flames, Draco had just enough time to see his father's face, perfect aristocratic features set in an impassive face as his stone-grey eyes screamed in rage. In that instant, Draco knew what his father was thinking. _This isn't over. _

Draco smirked in response, just before the flames grew, drowning out the sight of the Death Eaters, and Draco grabbed Ginny's hand, turning and fleeing from the site.

He didn't know how long they ran, whether it was a few minutes or a couple hours. All he knew was that they soon settled into a brisk pace, their bare feet slamming into the soft ground as their hearts and pulses raced, blood rushing through their veins and air flying into their lungs as they desperately tried to put space between them and their enemies.

Finally, they reached a small, open meadow as the sun began to rise. Wind was blowing softly across it, causing the golden grass to sway gently. As they stepped out from the shadows of the forest and into the light of the rising sun, they slowed to a walk. Together, they walked in silence to the middle of the meadow, each replaying the horrors of hours before in their minds.

Draco kept musing over the same question as the faces of the dead popped up in front of his eyes.

As they reached the middle of the meadow, where they would be able to see approaching figures for miles in every direction, they both simultaneously sat down, the pressures and exhaustion of the previous night pressing down upon them.

Ginny laid her head on Draco's shoulder and he wrapped her in his embrace, desperately seeking the same comfort she had come to him for. As she leaned her face against his chest, she began to cry, tears leaking from her eyes and trailing down her face as she remembered everything she had seen.

Looking up into Draco's silver eyes, her red hair flowing down her back as she tilted her head upwards to see his face, Ginny asked, her voice small and cracking with tears, "How did they find us?"

Draco tightened his arms around Ginny as he replied, asking her the same question he had been asking himself since starting the fire, "No Ginny, the real question is: who told them?"

Ah, yet another cliff hanger. Don't worry, all will be explained within the next chapter. Sorry for the delay, but it was worth it, wasn't it? Review!

Thanks to all those who review last time, which I realize was a month ago... SORRY!

-Aikoyu Saotome

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Thanks for all the support As always, I will post when I can, which will hopefully be soon. I can't wait to explain what happened! You might want to read Chapter 20 again after I post Chapter 22.

-Katy


	22. Ashes

Okay so I know this took forever and I'm sorry! But it's like 9,500 something words, so it's really long! Enjoy!

Disclaimer: Song belongs to AFI, characters belong to JKR, plot belongs to ME.

-Katy

_This is what I brought you, this you can keep._

_This is what I brought, you may forget me._

_I promise to depart, just promise one thing._

_Kiss my eyes and lay me to sleep._

_Prelude 21/12 by A Fire Inside (AFI)_

_Chapter 22: Ashes_

Draco opened his silvery eyes to the feel of a warm body pressing against his. Looking up, he saw a bright blue canvas dotted with clouds drifting above his head as the sun caused him to squint his eyes.

Glancing down, his eyes greeted the sight of Ginny, curled up into his chest, her face resting against his bare skin. Tightening his arms around the sleeping beauty, Draco closed his eyes, enjoying the feel of the sun on his face and the grass beneath his body as the images from the previous night assaulted his mind.

He saw it all again. He saw the burning Headquarters as people screamed and ran out of the building. He saw Lucius, leaning on his cane as he smirked. He saw Order members die again, their bodies falling lifeless to the ground. He saw the young mother, her tears springing to her eyes as a Death Eater threatened her life. He saw the same woman, clutching her baby, her eyes wide with a warning before she turned and sprinted into the woods, her figure dissipating into the shadows. He saw Lupin lying lifeless on the ground, his face gaunt and pale, the weariness he had always worn in life finally erased, as Tonks cried, cradling his lifeless body. And he saw Tonks, falling slowly to the ground, her hair finally changing back to purple as she was reunited with Lupin.

Ginny shifted in his embrace, dragging Draco out of his waking nightmares. Opening his eyes, he saw Ginny, her red hair flowing, her brown eyes staring at his face. Looking into her mahogany eyes, Draco saw that Ginny had had the same nightmare. Her eyes were wide, the usual fire doused; in their brown depths roamed a fear and knowledge that many of the people she had known, loved, cared for were dead. That her family was dead.

"We need a plan." Ginny whispered, her voice small.

The wheels in Draco's mind began to spin as he tried to find a plan within their depths. Slowly, the spiders of his brain began to weave a shaky, somewhat unsure, plan. Clearing his throat, Draco shook the grass out of his blond hair and sat up, facing Ginny.

"The first thing we need to do is contact the rest of the team." Draco said, quietly. He wasn't entirely sure why they were speaking quietly, whether it was respect for the dead or fear they would be found; it merely seemed the right thing to do.

Ginny looked as if she were swallowing past a lump of fear before she found her wand in the folds of her white nightgown. She sat upright, curling her knees beneath her, her brown eyes round and her red locks falling in soft curls over the straps of her white nightgown, the hem frayed, the once pure, white stretch of canvas now covered in reminders of the previous night. Looking into Draco's mercury eyes, she whispered, "What should we say?"

Closing his eyes momentarily, Draco pinched the bridge of his nose as he struggled with the thoughts swirling inside his mind. Finally settling with an answer, Draco flicked his eyes to meet Ginny's as he shifted his weight in the tall, golden grass, the midday sun shining down upon them.

"Tell them everything. That Tonks and Lupin are dead. Tell them not to return to Headquarters, no matter what. Tell them to stay in their individual groups of two; it will make it harder for the Death Eaters to track us down. Remind them to keep a low profile; they need to stay in the shadows for now. And absolutely no one should go into Diagon Alley for any reason. Stay in the muggle world for now. Ask them to reply and let us know who they know are dead. And, tell them that we are going to visit someone who will know what happened." Draco finished, lifting his head to stare at the sky and frown; he now knew what Blaise had been trying to warn them against.

Now that he knew, now that he had lived through the disaster, Draco felt as if it had been obvious the entire time. Hadn't it rained –rained wasn't the right word, deluged, poured, flooded– for two days straight, right until the moments the Death Eaters knocked down the door to Headquarters?

Ginny sent the entire message to the rest of the team, the message scrawling across her forearm in red script with their names signed delicately at the bottom, before fading softly into her skin.

Not wanting to wait around for replies, Draco grabbed Ginny's hand, pulling her to her feet, and the two began walking to muggle London, the first place Draco knew he could find transportation to where he knew he would find information on last night's attack.

As they walked, their footsteps silent as their bare feet padded over soft, golden grass, and then firm, dusty dirt, and finally piercing cobblestone, the news slowly trickled in. The death toll slowly rose from two to five to ten. The rest of the team was alive, each member in one piece, but furious at the tragedy around them. Many of the dead were people Draco had become acquainted with throughout the months. Dedalus Diggle, a small, mousy man he had played poker against. Emmeline Vance, whose baby Draco had once seen Ginny play with, had also been among the dead, leaving her one-year-old son an orphan. Jenna Shaw, whom Draco had seen the first day of his arrival at the Headquarters, when she had spotted Dumbledore, Snape, and him, dropping her basket in surprise before hurrying inside.

None of the Weasley children knew what had become of their parents; Ginny's face grew more worried as the news continued to come in from her brothers, with no word of her parents' whereabouts. Fleur was traveling with Charlie and Bill, a nasty cut on her cheek being the only injury the three suffered. Charlie wrote dryly that he might injure himself if she didn't quit complaining about the _"fatal, 'ideous deformity". _

Fred had suffered a broken hand, luckily not his wand arm, while George complained that he thought he might have broken a few toes when he had jumped out of their bedroom window to escape the fire raging inside.

No one had heard anything of the whereabouts of the Trio.

Finally, all communication stopped and Ginny tucked her wand back into the folds of her nightgown, sighing. There was no more news to tell. The death toll had risen to a looming eighteen, leaving around forty of the members of the Order unaccounted for.

Draco grabbed Ginny's hand as they stepped onto the noisy, cobblestone streets of muggle London. Cars zipped by at breakneck speeds as self-absorbed muggles, their hands full of shopping bags, their ears glued to portable phones, shoved past the two young wizards.

Scanning the area for stores, Draco's mercury eyes finally found what he was looking for. Tightening his grip on Ginny, Draco crossed the busy road, feeling the curious eyes on his back as muggles wondered why they were still in their nightclothes.

Draco pushed open the small door to the run-down shop, a small tinkling emitting from a bell above their heads as they stepped into it. The racks were filled with piles of old clothing, nearly shielding the young woman at the counter from view.

Pushing past the piles of clothes, Draco moved towards the counter. The woman looked as if she might have been a librarian in a previous life; her hair, a brown color with a tinge of purple that threw daggers into both Draco's and Ginny's hearts, was pinned at the nape of her neck, glasses perched studiously on the tip of her nose as she sat at a small, wooden desk, clutching a book. As they quietly approached, the woman cracked her gum, a habit Draco had always seen as vulgar, causing the two of them to flinch as the sound echoed through the empty room, resembling the friendly fire from the previous night.

Turning to wink at Ginny and push her towards the back of the store, Draco approached the woman at the desk. Frowning when she didn't notice him, Draco cleared his throat, causing the woman to jump and hastily push the novel she had been devouring under the desk.

Running his hands over the wooden grain, Draco leaned over the desk towards the woman, holding back a smirk as her dark eyes glanced at his uncovered chest, causing a pink flush to rise in her youthful face. Flicking his eyes upwards, over the woman's head, his silver eyes saw Ginny, her eyes narrowed in suspicion before she turned and ran to the back of the store.

As he flickered his eyes downwards, the woman looked up at him and stuttered, "H–How can I –h–help you?"

Clearing his throat, Draco pitched his voice to a smooth, charming tone he knew always worked in these situations, "I was wondering, could you give me directions to the nearest train station?"

As the woman blushed further and drew a map out, carefully labeling each unimportant street name while not-so-discreetly sneaking glances at Draco's chest, he waited until he heard the small tinkling of the door.

When he finally heard Ginny's exit, he masked it with a loud cough and said, "Yes, I know exactly where that is." Before he hurriedly grabbed the map and walked out of the door.

In the busy London streets, Draco walked quickly down the street, tossing the map in a nearby garbage can before pausing to wonder where Ginny had gone.

He heard the sound of a footstep stepping from the dark alley he had his back turned to right before he felt a sharp pain on the back of his head.

Turning he saw Ginny, her red hair tangled fiercely as she clutched two coats to her chest.

Reaching behind his head to feel for knots, Draco scowled at the redhead, "What was that for?"

Ginny scowled back at him, tightening her grip on the coats, "Why did you flirt with her?"

Draco let out a small laugh as the muggles pushing past shot him dirty looks, "That's what this is about? Because I flirted with her?"

Ginny narrowed her eyes and turned away from him, tossing her red hair angrily.

Draco let out a sigh. "Ginny the only reason I flirted with her was because I wanted to give you proper time to shoplift without interference." Glancing down at what she held in her arms, he continued, "That's all you got? Two coats?"

Looking up at him, her brown eyes blazing, Ginny growled, "I also got you a shirt. That place was a dump! There was no order to anything! Most of the shirts didn't even have their sizes on them. If you're going to be picky," Ginny said, shoving her finger into Draco's bar chest, "next time _you _can shoplift while I flirt."

Draco's mouth stretched into a grin, his silver eyes smiling, as he said, "Alright. Give me my coat. We'll get more clothes at our destination."

Ginny handed him a black, leather jacket as well as a plain white t-shirt with a reddish stain down the front, slipping on her own, a long, light grey coat falling past her nightgown to her mid-thigh.

Stepping deeper into the alleyway, Draco shrugged on his stained t-shirt and then the jacket, its leather soft and worn. Stretching his arms out to admire the fit, Draco turned to glance down the alley. The bricks were long, a dull grey color, with water dripping down from the roof hanging over on one side, causing droplets to drip in a puddle irritatingly, torturing Draco's ears. Papers littered the floor near a dumpster on the other end as traffic rushed by.

Turning to see Ginny pulling at a stray strand on her coat, Draco stepped to the curb and stuck his wand arm out, ignoring the confused stares from passing muggles. Ginny padded barefoot across the cement sidewalks to stand next to Draco, knitting her brows as she saw his outstretched hand and asked, "What are you–"

Her question was cut off by the sound of brakes being slammed suddenly, the smell of burning rubber as the tires tried desperately to comply to their driver's commands filled the air and the Knight Bus appeared before the two small figures, a curtain of fog enveloping them.

Staring up at the towering purple bus, Ginny gave a short laugh and said, as if her question had been stupid, "Oh."

The doors pried open, with some difficulty, and the gangly figure of Stan Shunpike appeared in a tattered purple uniform, bag of galleons at his hip. His clear blue eyes grazed lazily over the two figures, passing over Draco's face before snapping quickly back and widening with recognition. Draco grimaced internally as Stan turned his head over his shoulder and shouted to the driver, "Oi! Ernie! It's your other half, Ernie Macmillan!"

Ernie Prang turned his head lazily, his hands dangling from the giant steering wheel as he squinted his eyes, which were magnified by the enormous glasses he wore. Ernie grunted a hello before turning back to stare out the windshield, waiting impatiently to speed off to their next destination.

Leaning an arm against the frame of the purple doors, Stan turned his lazy blue eyes to Ginny and smiled appreciatively, the blotchy skin on his face stretching. Seeing the look, Draco had the impulse to step between Ginny and Stan, to shield her from view, but it wouldn't do for anyone to know exactly how much he cared for her.

Stan cleared his throat as he stared at Ginny and asked, "So Ernie, who's your pretty friend?"

As Draco scrambled for the name of a nondescript girl from his Hogwarts' years, Ginny stepped forward, tossing her red hair as she offered her hand to Stan and said, so confidently Draco nearly believed it, "Hannah Abbott."

Stan took her hand and brought it to his lips, producing a strangled look from Ginny that made Draco want to laugh. As Stan dropped her hand, Draco grabbed his attention by asking a vapid question about Quidditch.

As he chatted mindlessly with Stan, Draco watched Ginny slip her hand down to Stan's hip where the bag full of coins sat. Glancing cautiously at Stan's face to affirm that his attention was focused on Draco, Ginny bent down and slipped a dagger from under her dress, where it had sat near her inner thigh in a halter since she had rescued it from the weapons room in what felt like lifetimes ago.

Reaching towards the bag at Stan's hip, Ginny quickly sliced a hole small enough for her to slip her hand inside and grab a few coins, just enough to sponsor their journey. Slipping her knife back into it's halter, Ginny reached into the folds of her nightgown, pulling out her wand to quickly cast a spell to sew up the hole in the sack before edging slightly closer to Draco. As their hands brushed, she passed the money to him, where he then slipped the coins silently into his coat pocket before politely ending the conversation about sports and quickly turning it to the cost of their fare.

The mention of prices seemed to jerk Stun out of a stupor, the gangly man looked quickly over his shoulder at Ernie before totaling up a receipt for the two in front of him and announcing proudly, "That'll be one Galleon and five Sickles."

Draco quickly handed him the money over to the blotchy-faced man, grimacing as his coat pocket felt relatively lighter. Ginny hadn't stolen much money.

Stepping onto the bus, he and Ginny automatically towards the back, where they knew there would be fewer people. Above their heads, a sparkling diamond chandelier sparkled as people passed one another and peeked over the railing on the second floor.

As the senile voice of Ernie called out over the loudspeaker, "Here we go!" Draco quickly grabbed onto a nearby pole, wrapping his other arm around Ginny's waist as the bus lurched, taking off at speeds invisible to the human eye. Once the bus settled out, Draco released his grip on Ginny and the pole and continued his walk to their seats. On their way, they passed a coffee stand Draco hadn't seen on his previous visit. Making a mental note to visit it, Draco pushed on towards the back.

Once they were separated from the majority of passengers, Draco sat Ginny down before walking back to the coffee stand and ordering two steamy cups of the liquid energy. As he waited for the young man in the booth to discover how to do his job properly, Draco heard a voice behind him say, "Two cups? Either you seriously need to rethink your priorities or you've got someone with you."

Draco turned to see the smiling face of Cato, his grey beard just reaching his thick neck, his brown eyes shining nearly as brightly as his bald head. Smirking at the bookkeeper with whom he had housed for half a month after he had run away, Draco said, "Actually it's both. I am traveling with someone, but we both know my priorities have always been slightly skewed."

Cato tossed his head to the sky and laughed, "You were in the vicinity and you didn't visit? Portia's going to be furious."

Draco felt his mouth drop, "You weren't even home! We just got in London around twenty minutes ago!"

Grunting, Cato stayed firm, "You still should have visited."

"Well sorry, I was slightly tied up." Draco said drily, the spark in his eyes fading as well as his smile as he lowered his voice so only Cato could hear, "The Death Eaters attacked Headquarters at around three this morning."

Glancing down at his own tattoo, Cato sighed, "Do you know how many fatalities?"

"Remus Lupin, Nymphadora Tonks, and sixteen others are dead that I know of."

"Remus and Tonks? Are you sure? They were some of the best." Cato asked, staring hard into Draco's mercury eyes as if trying to read his mind.

"Yes, I'm sure. I saw them die. And I know they were some of the best, they were on my team. Apparently none of us were prepared for that battle."

"Damn." Cato sighed.

Draco and Cato continued talking a few minutes longer, catching up. Cato remarked that the Death Eaters had taken full control of Diagon Alley, most of the shops had been boarded up, their owners gone missing under suspicious circumstances.

"Of course, no one can prove anything so Portia and I are going to stay with her relatives." Cato said the last part in a tone that gave Draco the impression that the older man would prefer to suffer at Death Eater's hands, rather than those of Portia's family.

Draco grinned widely at the old man's tone but didn't comment.

"What name are you using anyway, Draco?" Cato asked quietly

Smirking, Draco thought Cato knew him a bit too well before answering, "The employees of the Knight Bus know me as Ernie Macmillan."

"And your traveling companion?"

"They know her as Hannah Abbott."

"Her? Oh Draco, you aren't with…" Cato trailed off sadly at his last memory of Ginny Weasley.

Clearing his throat, Draco straightened his shoulders defensively, "That's exactly who I'm traveling with."

Cato grinned slightly, "As I recall, she gave those Death Eaters some trouble that night. If she's been training under you, then I suppose you two are the most dangerous people in London, am I right?"

Draco grinned at the memory of Ginny's final test, "Let's just say she's won a fight against me."

Cato grunted a laugh, "She's a force to reckon with then."

Smiling faintly, Draco said, "Yes, she is." Just then, the coffee boy handed Draco his two cups and turned to the next person in line. Draco sat down his due coins and nodded a goodbye to Cato, saying "Give Portia my love."

Cato nodded back, turning in the opposite direction as Draco weaved through the seats towards the back, where he knew Ginny sat, most likely waiting impatiently.

As he reached their seats, Draco smiled softly. His impatient force to be reckoned with was fast asleep in her chair, her red hair falling softly over her face n waves.

Draco sat quietly down next to her, holding a cup in each hand, the smell of coffee wafting into the air. Taking a sip, the warm liquid nearly scalded his tongue.

Beside him, Ginny sniffed before her eyes flew open, immediately focusing on the cup of coffee in Draco's slender fingers. Without saying a word, Ginny reached impatiently for the cup, gulping the scalding liquid down after Draco passed it to her, his expression amused.

As she finished off her cup, Ginny leaned back in her seat and sighed contentedly. Facing the window, she watched the London countryside fly by.

A few minutes later, Ginny's quiet voice rang through their vacant section as she asked, "So whom are we going to see?"

Lifting his face, Draco stared into Ginny's reflection on the glass window. "We are on our way to visit Snape. He's the only person who could possibly give us information on exactly what happened last night."

Draco jumped lightly off of the platform of the towering purple bus, his bare feet landing in a small puddle. He offered his hand to Ginny as thunder cracked the dark clouds above. The rain had begun to fall sometime during the long ride to Spinner's End.

Keeping hold of Ginny's slender hand, Draco scanned the grey surroundings, his eyes sweeping over the tall, crowded stone houses and their narrow cobblestone streets that seemed to just barely be squeezed between them; in some places, the road looked as if it were about to pop out from amidst the buildings.

Spotting a road he recognized, Draco tightened his grip on Ginny and hurried over the uneven cobblestone as icy bullets rained down from the heavens. As the cold water ran down his neck and seeped into his shirt, Draco tightened his jacket and muttered, "Should have stolen an umbrella."

Ginny stopped in the middle of the road, her red hair tangled and wet, and shot him an angry look. "My mistake, I wasn't aware it was going to rain, Draco!"

As the lightening cracked directly overhead, Draco realized he was being irrational. Wanting to slap himself on the head, he apologized before putting his arm around Ginny's shoulders and continuing to hurry towards the road.

As they reached the mouth of the alley, they stepped ankle deep into another puddle. "You should have at least stolen shoes." Draco remarked jokingly.

Ginny scowled slightly before responding, "Excuse me if I was a bit distracted when I saw you flexing your biceps for the woman at the desk!"

Draco stopped in the road and tossed his head to the sky, laughing. As she watched, Ginny was reminded of the carefree way her brothers like to laugh.

As his laughing faded, Draco said, "You couldn't steal because you were distracted by me _flirting_ with another girl? I was distracting her!"

Ginny nodded, "I know. I can't explain it."

Seeing that Ginny wasn't smiling her bright smile, Draco grabbed her round, sweet face between his hands and stared into the depths of her large, brown eyes, "Doing what we do, we are going to have to flirt with other people, sometimes even the enemy, so that we get what we want. That's just the way it is. You have to keep in mind that it doesn't mean anything. I love you, Ginny Weasley. Not the girl at the counter or the girls in my past or any of the girls I may have to flirt with to get us to where we need to be. You're the only girl I've ever loved and the only girl I ever will love."

Ginny flashed him a small smile, searching his silvery eyes for the truth. When she found it in his mercury depths, she stood on her tiptoes and gently pressed her lips to his. As she pulled back, her red hair drenched from the rain, keeping her lips just inches from his, she whispered, "I love you too, Draco."

Draco pounded urgently on the black, wooden door, his fist hurting from hitting it so hard. Glancing quickly around, he checked the vacant streets for prying eyes. The last visit he had paid to his godfather, he had cut through the back. But this time, he didn't have the patience. The rain was pouring, allowing little visibility for spying, but Draco had cast a small invisibility charm on himself and Ginny in the back of an alley as a precaution.

Seeing that Snape was being stubborn, Draco began to kick the door, five separate time in a staccato-like tune, the secret rhythm he and Snape used. Glancing back at a shivering Ginny, he muttered to himself, "Come on, Snape. I know you're in there, old man. Open the door."

The invisibility charm was beginning to wear off as Snape finally began to loosen the locks on his door. Hearing the bolts begin to slide back, Draco wrapped his arm gently around Ginny.

Finally, the door cracked open to reveal one dark eye and the familiar hooked nose of Severus Snape. Draco sighed in relief and pushed his way into the warm house, the door slamming just in time for the charm to fully wear off.

Draco and Ginny stood, their clothes and jackets soaked through, their hair plastered to their faces, small puddles forming around their feet, in a dark sitting room, as Snape pointed his wand threateningly at Draco's face.

Rolling his silver eyes, Draco said, "Calm down, Snape. It's just Ginny and me. Relax and put that wand away, you're going to poke someone's eye out."

"Fine, but first, what was the potion sitting in my cauldron upstairs when you visited last?" Snape asked cautiously, his black eyes gleaming.

Draco smirked, "A trick question, huh? The cauldron wasn't upstairs, it was in the basement as I had snuck around the back." Draco added smartly, "But the potion was Veritaserum."

Giving a sigh of relief, Snape tucked his wand into his heavy, black robe.

No one asked why Snape had overreacted so, they were all acutely aware of the dangerous times they were in.

"Why didn't you ask me any question?" Ginny asked, her red eyebrows knitting together.

Snape smirked, his expression eerily similar to Draco's, "Because I don't know you well enough to ask you a security question. And I trust Draco's judgment. He knows you well enough to have spotted if you were a fake long ago." Ending the conversation, Snape turned and walked further into the dark room, motioning for his guests to sit on some of the threadbare furniture before he walked into a separate room, one Ginny assumed was the kitchen.

Staring at the crowded room, Ginny felt a tad claustrophobic. Books lined their overcrowded cases, the wood buckling on some of them as they struggled to support the weight. Overhead hung a candle-filled lamp, the yellowed wax dripping down the sticks.

Snape walked back through the door, carrying a small, worn tray of mismatching cups of tea. Setting it down on a coffee table, he flicked his wand at the fireplace, flames leaping to life in the cavern, before he turned to Draco, his expression similar to that of a scolding parent.

"You couldn't have put on some decent clothes before you came to visit me?"

Draco gave a chuckle, "No, we didn't have time to grab any clothes. These jackets were something we stole."

His dark eyes narrowing slightly, Snape asked cautiously, "Why were you in such a hurry to get here?"

Draco opened his mouth, unsure how to tell Snape, who was obviously unaware of what had happened, that the Order had been massacred the previous night.

Ginny interrupted whatever Draco was planning to say, her brown eyes pleading, "We need your help, Professor. You were the only one we could think of to come to!"

Snape stood silently for a moment before his eyes widened slightly and he turned back to Draco, "Did you get the Weasley girl pregnant? Haven't you ever heard of a contraceptive charm?" Snape slapped Draco on the back of the head as if trying to literally knock sense into his godson before continuing, "No wonder you want help. I'm sure her brothers want your head on a stick. And if your father ever found out–"

Draco's silver eyes widened as he interrupted Snape, "What? No! That's not what happened! She isn't– We aren't–" Taking a deep breath, Draco said the only thing he could think of, "No."

Seeing that Draco was once again lost for words, Ginny clarified, "We were talking about the attack on the Headquarters of the Order of the Phoenix that occurred this morning at three."

"They attacked Headquarters?" Snape whispered, his dark eyes resembling the depths of oblivion as he dropped the wand he had held in his hand and fell into the nearest moth-eaten chair.

Draco snapped back into action, taking control of the situation once more, "Yes. There are eighteen members of the Order known dead, another forty unaccounted for."

Snape leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees as he stared at his hands as if personally blaming himself for the tragedy as he whispered, "How could this happen?"

A dead silence hung in the air as the room pondered Snape's question. Draco was the one to finally break the heavy quiet, "That's why we came to you. You're the only one who can get us the answer."

Snape snapped his head up, finally seeming to have returned to the present. The dark man stood silently and exited the room in a rustling of dark, heavy cloaks.

As they waited, Ginny walked silently around the room, carefully inspecting the objects lying within it. As she came to a soft, pearly blue necklace, she carefully reached her gentle fingers out to touch it.

"Careful! Many objects within my godfather's possession are cursed. Keep in mind that he is a Death Eater." Draco's sharp voice stopped Ginny's fingers mere inches from the enticing necklace.

Ginny scurried back to her seat beside Draco on a threadbare couch, where she sat waiting patiently for Snape to return with information, her hair and clothes slowly drying before the blazing fire he had left on.

Draco sat quietly, unmoving but for the subtle movements of his hand as he brought a hot cup of tea to his lips.

Finally, Snape returned to the room, slouching carelessly in one of his old chairs and sighing before he began his tale.

Ginny and Draco sat forward eagerly, leaving their tea forgotten on the tray, as the truth came spilling from Snape's mouth as if the dam had broken.

"The Death Eaters have spent months searching specifically for you, Draco. At the same time, they have also been looking for the Order. It wasn't until your first escapade into muggle London that Bellatrix spotted you with the Weasley's. Then, the Dark Lord knew that you had sided with the Order, rather than simply running away and staying neutral. This brought great shame upon your father. As you can imagine, Lucius was less than thrilled." Snape smirked at the last sentence, having witnessed Lucius' temper firsthand on more than one occasion.

"And so, Lucius made it his mission to destroy you, Draco. He wants you dead more than any other member of the Order of the Phoenix, not only because you betrayed him, but because he knows you're using your…" Snape drifted off, choosing his words carefully, his jet black eyes focusing on a point above both Ginny and Draco's heads. "Special skill set to assist them. Because you were using tricks that Lucius had taught you, the Dark Lord was none too pleased with your father. And so it became that both the Dark Lord and your father wanted you dead."

"A few weeks passed and they hadn't developed any sort of plan until one day, the Death Eaters were sent out on an average raid and returned home with a special prize for their Lord. Can you guess what it was, Draco? It was the only thing that could ever convince a person to turn on his fellows." Snape's eyes sparkled as if he was telling a nice story, or teaching one of his potions lessons.

Silence hung heavily in the air as the tension built before Ginny finally answered quietly, her brown eyes focused on Snape's face, "Family."

Black eyes snapped over to meet her light brown ones. Snape smiled slightly, "Yes, family. The only bond you can never break is that of the ties to your family. You can divorce your wife, lose a friend, separate from a lover, but you can never break the ties you have to family. They are hidden in the blood."

Draco leaned further, a soft squeak from the ancient furniture echoing through the room as he did so, his elbows resting on his knees as Snape's had been earlier, as he said impatiently, "Okay, so whose family did they use as leverage?"

Snape leaned closer across the small, spindly coffee table where the forgotten mismatched teacups sat. The depths of his eyes were endless, his hooked nose crooked, suggesting a few fights in his youth, his black hair looking slightly unwashed as his dried lips whispered, "Hermione Granger's"

Draco paced before the chipped mantle of the fireplace, running his hands through his pale hair, his wet clothes slowly beginning to recover from the walk through the rain. Ginny watched him walk back and forth as she sat on the couch, her coat abandoned on the back of the tattered furniture, as she began to work through the information they had been given.

Draco suddenly stopped his pacing, "So let me get this straight: My father and Voldemort are holding Hermione's parents as ransom so she would give them the coordinates of Headquarters? And she agreed? The massacre last night was because of Hermione?"

Snape stared absentmindedly out the foggy window as he responded, "Not entirely. They _were_ being held by your father. I imagine that by now he's either killed them or had them released. Also, Hermione was going to refuse the offer until Potter insisted."

"What?" Ginny exclaimed, standing abruptly. "Why would Harry do such a thing?"

As an answer Snape simply lifted a single crooked finger and aimed it towards the fireplace, where his godson stood.

"Me? Potter risked all the members of the Order to get back at me?" Draco said, stopping his pacing as he faced Snape, his face invisible as shadow was cast upon his body, silhouetting his figure against the bright flame of the fire.

Snape looked slowly up from where he sat, "He most likely tried to discreetly evacuate the building, am I right?"

Draco's mind snapped back to the smoke-filled room as Harry stood atop a chair, his hands cupped around his mouth as his green eyes gleamed, and suggested the entire Order attend Headquarters.

"Yes he suggested that the rest of the Order watch a Quidditch match. He had seemed upset when Moody shot the idea down. But even if it had worked, he still put the rest of the team at risk!" Draco began shouting, his silver eyes hardening as he thought of all the people dead because of this.

"He had seen what your team could do, hadn't he? The Trio was likely confident that any member trained by you could survive." Snape replied softly, his voice devoid of life as he stared unseeingly at the corner of the worn hearth.

Draco snorted, "Yeah, well they were wrong." He muttered cynically before continuing, "But why does Potter hate me enough to put so many people in the line of fire? He put the twins and Bill and Charlie at risk! He put Ginny in danger! He got Lupin and Tonks killed!"

Snape looked up again, his dark eyes haunted by the ghosts of memories as he said softly, "I don't have all the answers, Draco."

Ginny pulled the dark jacket that Snape had lent her tightly around her slender body as a small shiver coursed through her. Tucking a small strand of hair behind her ear, she stared out the window, waiting calmly for the sun to seep behind the buildings as the soft voices of Draco and Snape echoed through the small townhouse.

Listing to the slow trickle of rain hit the tin roof, she thought back on all she had discovered in the past few hours. Two of her closest friends had betrayed her, nearly gotten her killed, while her brother had stood by silently and allowed it.

Guilt welled up in the pits of her stomach, quietly taking her by surprise. Guilt that she was alive while her friends were not. Guilt that she had not been able to stop the massacre. Guilt that this could all be her fault.

Harry had allowed the massacre because of his jealousy. He had been jealous of Draco, jealous because he had been there for Ginny at a time when Harry himself could not. Jealous of the complex relationship that had developed between her and her knight with silver eyes. No matter how misplaced and twisted his jealousy was, Ginny couldn't deny it any longer, it existed. It was there. Harry was jealous of Draco and he had allowed his feelings to control his actions.

And then there had been Hermione, stuck between two equally hard decisions. Ginny tried–desperately, nearly pleadingly with her mind–to imagine herself in Hermione's place, but no matter how hard she tried, she never completely understood the elder girl's choice. Hermione had hesitated, granted. She had nearly decided not to agree with the offer until Harry had insisted, but hadn't it always been Hermione's job to tell Harry when he was out of control? To stop him when he was going to hurt someone?

And so the questions, accusations, and confusion continued to spin inside her mind until it was too entangled for her to distinguish a question from the answer and she was forced to completely clear her mind, leaving her to merely stare out the window at the rain as the setting sun shone through the small drops, creating a small rainbow, a glimmer of hope, a small light on the other side of the very dark tunnel Ginny currently found herself stumbling in.

"It would only be a few days" Draco said softly in another room.

"I don't think it's the best idea. What if they found you?" Snape asked quietly from where he stood above the sink in the small kitchen.

"They won't. Why would they come looking here? They think you're on their side. This should be the last place we would go." His silver eyes traced the cracks in the shabby wooden table he sat at as he absent-mindedly twirled a knife between his slender fingers.

"I'm not so sure about that." Snape whispered, hanging his head as he gripped the counter of the small kitchen, his knuckles turning white.

"What are you talking about?" Draco asked, snapping his silver gaze upwards in concern.

"It's my job to warn the Order of upcoming attacks. I wasn't informed of the planning of the massacre. I should have been, if not by Voldemort, then at least by your father."

Seeing what was happening, Draco looked down at the table again and responded quietly, "This isn't your fault. If anything, it's mine. I should have seen this coming too. Blaise kept warning me. I had the pieces, I just couldn't make them fit until it had already happened. I should have been able to stop them, to fight them off. Lupin and Tonks shouldn't have died. It's not your fault that this one slipped through the cracks. They've had you working, right? You're the Potionsmaster for the Dark Lord, you aren't actually supposed to be involved in the raids."

Snape nodded silently, trying to convince himself that this was the truth by ignoring the gnawing feeling in the pit of his stomach as he turned away from Draco and walked through the swinging door, leaving his godson alone with his thoughts.

As soon as the sun had completely disappeared and night had begun, three figures stepped out of the shelter of a narrow grey building into the uneven cobblestone street, quickly slipping down the rows of uniform houses.

Pulling the dark hood of the thick robe tighter over his pale hair, Draco slunk around the corner with his two companions, setting the pace at a slight run as they slipped through the serpentine labyrinth of the town, heading quickly toward the outskirts.

As the spaces between each house grew and grass replaced the rough cobblestone, Draco slowed his pace slightly, watching as the countryside took shape.

When they were safely in the middle of nowhere, houses invisible to their eyes, Draco held his wand arm out, silently calling for the Knight Bus. Seconds later, the purple bus shuddered to a halt before them in a cloud of steam.

Stan Shunpike stuck his blemished face out the door as Draco and his two companions pulled their hoods lower over their faces, hiding their identities in the shadows. As Stan opened his mouth with an inhale of air, Snape silenced him by pulling on the thick sleeve of his robe, revealing the shining black mark of the Dark Lord, as if flashing a card allowing him special permission onto the bus, before he shoved his way onboard, silently watching as Stan fell to the ground at his companions feet, a smirk just barely visible scrawled on his face, before he turned on his heel and marched down the aisle, Ginny and Draco silently following in his wake.

Sitting down onto one of the beds, Ginny reached upwards to slip off the heavy hood, releasing her mass of red hair, before she leaved backwards, splaying her fingers outwards on the soft, cotton sheets as she crossed her legs and turned to her two cloaked companions.

Across from the attractive redhead sat Snape and Draco, each on their own bed, both of their hoods down; they were living in dangerous times, as soon as they had stepped foot onto the second floor, moving imposingly through the mass of beds, the few people who had occupied the room had stood silently, gathering their things before stepping down the stairs, moving slowly as if afraid to disturb the three cloaked figures.

Aiming his wand at the door, Draco quickly locked the door and cast a muffling charm on it as a precaution, before lying down on the bed, folding his hands behind his head, as Ginny asked, "So where are we going exactly?"

Staring at the ceiling, Draco was silent for a moment before responding, "To pay our respects."

Stepping into the clearing where Headquarters sat, even in the dark Draco could see the bodies scattering the fields. Feeling a sinking in his stomach, he knew the death toll was higher than the team had originally estimated.

They moved silently, the death pressing in on them on all sides, stepping quietly over bodies, like a shadow passing over the night, they were invisible.

Stepping into Headquarters, the silence pressed inwards on them, it was deafening, a silence that made them really listen, really notice exactly how many people were missing. They stood at the doorway for a moment, listening in false hope for the cry of a child, for the whisper of a hope, for any sign of life besides the chilly wind blowing through the windows, causing shattered glass to slide across the floor. Sighing, Draco moved forward, his wand tip lighting the way as they stepped through the house, searching for bodies.

They split up, each parting from the others and moving in their separate directions, as they combed through the many floors, occasionally finding a fellow member and placing the body on the white porch, wrapped carefully in the simple cotton sheets from a random bed, their arms carefully folded across their chest, their eyelids shut.

Ginny stepped quietly through the room, the floorboards giving slight creaks beneath her feet as her heavy cloak swept the room behind her. Holding her wand upwards, she extended the light, letting it fill all the corners, her eyes scanning the room for bodies.

Turning to leave, she caught sight of a small red tennis shoe, the lace untied, out of the corner of her brown eyes. Her heart stopping, she ran across the room, lifting the head of the small child as she listened hopelessly for a heart beat. Hearing nothing but the silence of a chest that has long been unmoving, Ginny sighed and held the child protectively to her chest as she remembered who he was.

She had seen him running around, his brown hair flying back, his blue eyes sparkling, his cheeks flushed with exhilaration, as he played carefree games with the other children at Headquarters. She had never learned his name, but she had seen him nearly every day, playing games with his friends, helping his mother with chores, watching the team practice from a distance. He had been so young, so full of life, and now he sat in her arms, his body cold and his heart never to beat again.

Tears began to fall down her face as she stood up silently, stripping a nearby bed of its linen, and began to carefully wrap him in the crisp sheets. She carefully lifted the small body in her arms, holding tightly as she began to walk slowly out of the house, her legs feeling heavy.

Adding the miniature body to the growing line on the porch, Ginny was surprised at the numbers. There were at least a dozen bodies, lying side-by-side swathed in white, their faces uncovered, their eyes closed as if they were simply sleeping.

Just then, Draco backed out of the house carrying another body. Laying it beside that of the child, his silver eyes glanced at the small body Ginny sat next to.

Draco stopped suddenly as he took in the small stature and the round, childish face of the body, "Shit." He cursed under his breath, looking away from the boy as if the sight burned his eyes.

As he glanced around the dark yard, his eyes saw the outline of a dark pile where they had put the bodies of their enemies. Staring at it for a few moments longer, Draco pinched the bridge of his nose as if he had a headache from seeing the death surrounding him. The sky began to lighten, the horizon turning from a dark black to a light grey as Snape opened the door, another body held in his arms.

The three figures on the small porch turned their heads to watch the sun paint the whitewashed house and its surrounding fields in shades of red, the color of blood. As the sun rose higher, the vibrant colors disappearing and all returning to their original colors, Snape sighed and laid the body he held on the ground, quoting to himself quietly, "Red sky at morning, sailor's warning." Straightening up, the dark man looked directly at his godson and the redhead next to him, "We need to hurry, it's dangerous to do this in the light of day. We finished with the house, it's time to check the fields before we start burying and burning the bodies."

The three figures stood, each stepping off of the white porch and heading into a different direction towards the fields and surrounding forest. As Draco walked, he was acutely aware that he was moving in a direction where he would eventually find the bodies of two of his team members, where they had been swallowed by the forest, taken too early from life.

Draco sat another body on the porch, quickly drawing his wand to summon another sheet from a bed, before carefully wrapping the body. Gazing at the porch, he was surprised to see it so full, the numbers had grown from a dozen to twenty-five, with the woods still unchecked. The sun was rising higher in the sky, signaling that it was nearly noon and that he and Ginny hadn't slept in more than twenty-four hours. He closed his silver eyes for a moment in exhaustion, hoping to somehow gain a little energy from the action, before he wearily pushed himself from the ground and walked towards the woods to find the bodies of his friends.

It had taken nearly another two hours of searching, but there they were, lying not twenty feet from one another as Draco stood, solemnly, watching the figures with silver eyes. Lupin's face was staring at the bright sky, as if still waiting warily for a full moon to claim his humanity, his hand open, still clutching his wand. Tonks was lying on her side, her soft nightgown falling over the thighs of her legs, her purple hair covering her eyes, her wand lying a few feet from her, where it had landed when she had fallen.

Their faces were both peaceful, their eyes closed, their faces set in smiles despite their horrific deaths, as if they had been reunited and finally found happiness wherever they were.

Draco sat a few minutes longer, his back against a tree, as he gathered the strength to take the dead bodies of his teammates to the porch. Finally, he stood slowly, drawing his wand as he cast a spell to magically transport the bodies, before he began to weave his way between the shadows of the towering trees, finding his way into the light once again.

He sat quietly on the steps of the porch, the sleeves of his shirt rolled, the dark cloak he had worn earlier cast aside as the heat of the midday sun rolled over his body in waves. His silver eyes gazed over the golden fields as he tried desperately to become less aware of the large amount of bodies lined on the porch, his eyes avoiding the dark pile of Death Eaters lying on the fields.

Draco had wrapped Tonks and Lupin in the same sheet, knowing that it was how it was meant to be, even death should not be able to separate the two.

Suddenly, a small rainbow shimmered on the ground before his feet. Draco felt a small pain in his chest as he realized it was caused by the light refracting off of the diamond on Tonks' ring.

As he stared at the small rainbow, admiring the colors, so pure in concentration, his mind wandered, twisting its way through the past. As he recalled the proposal he had walked in on, a small shadow blocked the sun and snapped him out of his memories.

Flickering his eyes upwards, he saw Ginny, another body floating beside her, as she stared at him knowingly with brown eyes.

Draco looked at the body floating beside the redhead, its bone-white mask covering the identity, the dark cloak falling through the air so it just barely brushed strands of grass. Ginny sat slowly on the step beside Draco, flicking her wand at the body and sending it flying into the pile with other Death Eaters, before she sighed and leaned her head on his shoulder, waiting silently for the third member of their party to join them.

Snape joined them only the step with a small sigh, strands of his black hair covering his eyes, though Draco didn't need to see the dark eyes of his godfather to know what he was feeling. What they were each feeling. Guilt.

Survivor's Guilt.

Draco shook his head, soft strands of his blond hair flopping into his eyes as he stood, offering his hand to Ginny and pulling the small redhead to her feet as he spoke, "We can't wait any longer. We have to get rid of the bodies. Death Eaters might return soon, either to collect their dead or to raid the rest of Headquarters."

Snape nodded solemnly, his eyes focused on some faraway memory as he stood and began counting the bodies of Order members.

Thirty-four. The final death toll rang repeatedly in his ears, torturing his mind. Not all of them had been active members, four had been children. This left thirty-eight active members of the Order who had witnessed the massacre with an untold number of members who were either abroad or had merely refused the safety offered by Headquarters.

Draco gripped his wand and began weaving spells, magically shifting around piles of dirt around as Ginny carefully lifted the white-clothed bodies of Order members with her wand, placing them gently in the graves Draco had created. As they worked, Snape placed smooth stones above the heads of the buried, engraving their names and the date of death in a neat, dignified script.

Finally, Draco filled the final grave belonging to Lupin and Tonks. As Snape wrote their names and date of death on their joint headstone, adding two circles intertwining at the bottom, Ginny found a stone a bit taller than her and began to write:

_Here lie the victims of the August 5__th__ massacre_

_Who will live forever_

_Within the fire of our hearts_

_Vereor non Cinis Cineris_

_The Order of the Phoenix_

As a final precaution, Draco cast one of the most powerful protection spells he knew– so powerful, it was sometimes confused whether or not it was a Dark spell– on the burial place, feeling the strength rise in his chest and leave through his wand in a shower of red sparks, forming a small dome over the stones before fading into oblivion, so that all who meant the graves harm would find themselves unable to enter.

At last, as the sun capped the top of the bright blue sky and began its decent into the afternoon, the three turned towards the dark pile sitting ominously in the middle of the yard.

Glancing at the pile of Death Eaters, Draco's silver gaze spotted a few black dots in the distance, signaling the approach of more Death Eaters. Sighing, Draco drew his wand, motioning with his head towards figures as they drew nearer, saying, "Well, we better do this quickly."

Drawing power into his wand, he quickly released it into a powerful firestorm spell, his two companions joining in as the Death Eaters began to sprint towards them. As soon as the flames caught to the bodies and smoke began to clog the air, Draco grabbed Ginny's hand and took off running, yelling at Snape behind him, "Time to go!"

The smoke stayed close to the ground, covering their heads and faces so that Draco could only see an oily, dark grey cloud. Instinctively, he ran, choosing a direction and heading towards it with all the speed and strength his legs possessed, his hand clenched around Ginny's wrist as she sprinted beside him, her breathing irregular, as he prayed that they were near the forest. The smoke was broken only by lethal streaks of light as they soared past.

His heart pounding, Draco glanced back at Ginny to see her brown eyes wide as her red hair streamed backwards, flying through the air behind them. He couldn't see Snape anywhere.

Swallowing a rising lump in his throat, Draco pushed forward as the adrenaline flooded his veins, his heart becoming the only sound existing in his world. At last, with a small sigh of relief, the trees towered above their heads. Ginny bent over, her hands on her knees, and gasped for breath. Weighing his options, his silver eyes glancing around the dark woods in search of his godfather, Draco waited a moment for Ginny to regain her breath.

As Ginny straightened up, Draco grabbed her hand and began running again, fleeing through the woods as he had less than two days ago, the blood pumping through his body like a vital river, the trees above his head towering like watching giants, too immense to intervene upon the meaningless and trivial activities of humans. As he ran, he banished the thoughts swimming through his mind telling him that his godfather could be dead and instead focused solely on two things. Soon, everything else faded into the imaginary, leaving only the ground beneath his feet and the feel of Ginny's small hand in his to exist.

Hope you enjoyed! Check out my other work! **Review**!

Thanks to everyone who reviewed last time or reviewed other chapters:

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Until next time, my friends

-Katy


	23. Recovery

**Author's Note:** Alright. I'm really sorry about how long this has taken to write. School's been so freaking hard, I'm literally working like 16 hours a day. It's awesome. I hope your life has been as hectic as mine, because then you probably forgot that I haven't posted in like a year.

I really didn't want to make this a typical just-another-filler-chapter, so I worked hard to add in some personal dilemmas and stuff. I guess you'll just have to read. I know it's kind of short, I'm sorry!

Disclaimer:

JKR owns all

Song belongs to Never Shout Never

If you've never heard of NSN, I really suggest you listen

_I like you_

_Girl you don't got nothing to prove to me_

_I know that times have been rough_

_For the both of us_

_But I'll pray for a change_

_You see this world has lots to offer_

_But in time it will go dark,_

_And if this love is what we see it is_

_I'm sure we will go far_

_And with a girl as sweet as you_

_There's not much else I can do_

_But fall for you_

_You know that I'm a wreck_

_And you know I can't breathe_

_At the edge of my seat with each word_

_As the months turn into years_

_Just know that I will wait... here,_

_For you_

_Cause I prayed for a change_

_You see this world has lots to offer_

_But in time it will go dark,_

_And if this love is what we see it is_

_I'm sure we will go far_

_And with a girl as sweet as you_

_There's not much else I can do_

_But fall for you_

_For you_

_For you_

_For you_

_This world has lots to offer_

_But in time it will go dark,_

_And if this love is what we see it is_

_I'm sure we will go far_

_And with a girl as sweet as you_

_There's not much else I can do_

_But fall for you_

_-Never Shout Never_

Her small hand reached out to grab at the thick, velvet curtain, pulling it back to reveal a window, its panes foggy with age. Squinting, she surveyed the streets outside, searching for a figure standing on the slick, uneven cobblestone as the rain poured down.

Seeing the roads empty, she closed the curtains shut, for perhaps the twentieth time that night, with a finality, knowing in the back of her mind that no matter how firmly she closed them, she would check the streets in the next five minutes, searching desperately for him. She and Draco had been taking turns peering through the windows, nearly impulsively, into the night, waiting for Snape to return.

Small snores emanated from the small chair in which Snape had sat early. Draco's hair fell over his closed eyes, his body leaning into the leather of the chair. He had finally given into the sleep that had haunted him all day, trusting Ginny to wake him if trouble arose. Glancing at his hand, Ginny sorrowfully smiled, combing a thick piece of red hair behind her ear, as she saw the dark wand he had resting between his slender fingers. Even in sleep, Draco was prepared for an attack.

She didn't know how long it had been since they'd last seen the potions master, his dark brows knit in concentration over his hooked nose as he wove powerful spells, the power emanating from his wand blowing his lank hair and black robes back, the flames of the fire flickering on his face.

A dull thud on the steps outside brought Ginny flying back to reality, her brown eyes widening. Standing, she gripped her wand tighter, her pulse beginning to race as she felt the familiar fear of the unknown, a fear she wished she didn't feel, infiltrate her veins.

Slinking through the hall, she opened the door slowly, peering through the crack to see a dark figure standing outside, his familiar hooked nose illuminated by a small shaft of light. Ginny threw the door open, its knob banging against the wall painfully as she threw her arms around the neck of her potions teacher.

"Ginny," She heard an exasperated voice say from behind her, "Please for fuck's sake, don't slam the door while I'm sleeping! Especially when I'm half-expecting a horde of Death Eaters to come barging through the door unannounced." His free hand, somewhat dramatically, clutched the fabric of his shirt before he added, "It nearly gave me a heart attack."

Draco was standing down the hall, one hand gripping his wand so tightly she thought it would snap, his knuckles white. His blond hair was sticking up in every direction, his chest heaving as if he had sprinted down the hall.

Ginny smirked, tossing her vibrant hair, "Well then, don't sleep when you're expecting an invasion of Death Eaters to march through our front doors at any given moment." Her tone gave the impression that she was stating the obvious and it was written down in a handbook somewhere.

Chuckling, the blond replied, "I would never get any sleep." He added, as an afterthought, "Well, I suppose I'm awake now. Good to see you're still alive, Snape."

The dark man smiled, nodding to his godson in a withdrawn show of affection, something Ginny would never begin to understand.

"Do you think your cover was blown, Snape?" Draco asked quietly.

His dark godfather merely shook his head, saying, "They never saw me. The heavy smoke was an advantage, I assure you, that I did not waste."

Yawning, Draco ran his hands through his hair, "We need a plan."

Snape pushed gently at the glowing embers of the fire, sending sparks flying up into the dark abyss of the chimney as he tried to revive the dying flames. Draco absentmindedly combed his fingers through Ginny's vivid tangles where her head rested on his lap as she dozed. The exhausted redhead had fallen asleep while they planned, having kept guard as Draco slept.

The crooked-nosed silhouette of his godfather moved quietly across the room, sitting down in the frayed chair, his hands on his the black cloth cloaking his knees, his dark eyes watching the gentle hands of his godson rake through red hair.

Draco murmured gently, his silver eyes focusing on the soft face of the sleeping girl, "We will just stay here for a few days, to rest and contact the rest of the team."

Dark hair shook through the dimness of the room as the potions master gave his silent approval. Stillness hung in the air before Snape quietly murmured, "You know you are always welcome, Draco. And Ginny as well. Feel free to seek refuge under my roof whenever you need it."

Flicking his mercury eyes upward to meet his godfather's black ones, Draco softly spoke, "Thank you." A mischievous grin flashed onto Draco's face, causing Snape to roll his eyes wearily, "You're just a lonely old man, aren't you? On the outside, you act reserved and hostile, wrapped up in that dark cloak and surrounded by those noxious potions, yet here you are, practically begging us to stay."

Snape scoffed, leaning back in his chair and turning his face towards the clock on the mantle as if there were somewhere he needed to be, "Hardly. You've been nothing but a pain in my ass for the last eighteen years. But if I don't keep an eye on you, who will?"

Laughing, Draco responded, "I suppose you're right. I'm sure my habit of showing up at your doorstep at strange hours hinders your busy lifestyle. Perhaps I should send an owl beforehand?"

His mouth twisting into a grin, Snape sarcastically replied, "That would be lovely. However, I might have to pencil you in during the daytime. I know how appalling you might find this, you enjoy surprising people in the middle of the night by banging incessantly on their doors so much."

"I'm sure I could make an exception for you, Snape. I know how you enjoy your beauty sleep."

"I find I require a minimum of eight hours to maintain this perfect visage." Snape agreed, his expression serious.

Draco's smile widened once more before disappearing altogether as he moved onto the more serious topic, "I just hope that we won't need your sanctuary on our travels."

Snape's smile faded as well, "Do you have any idea where you are headed?"

Draco nodded as, in his minds eye, he saw a vivid image of flying buttresses and spires, a jumble of wrought iron and stone, with the peaks of towers grazing the heavens.

Ginny stumbled down the dark staircase, her hand sliding gently along the polished banister. She had awoken in a small room, the sun slanting down onto her face through a crack in the heavy curtains. Sitting up, she had looked around confusedly at her surroundings, a small bed next to hers was made carefully in the precise and painstakingly deliberate method she knew only belonged to Draco.

While living at Headquarters, he had risen every morning, sometimes before the sun was awake, to slip silently out of his bed, crisply folding the sheets, straightening the pillow, leaving not a mark of his stay the previous night. Sometimes it was if he had never been there.

Now, Ginny knew that the lack of any trace or imprint was how Draco left his essence behind. He was nearly ghostlike, ephemeral, his footsteps soundless, his stays fleeting. In her stomach, she knew that his stay with the Order had been the longest he had ever stayed anywhere besides Hogwarts and the Manor.

Knowing that Draco was somewhere within proximity, she had slipped out of bed, leaving it unmade, and slipped on the grey jacket she had been wearing the day before, the only item of clothing she owned besides the tattered nightgown, smeared with the stains of the night of the massacre.

She now reached the bottom of the stairs and, seeing light illuminating the bottom of the door to the kitchen, Ginny laid her hands gently against the inky wood of the door, pushing it to reveal Draco and Snape sitting at the small table in the middle of the kitchen, the sunlight streaming in through a small window above the sink.

Draco's ethereal face turned to look towards her as the door softly closed, his features lighting up when he saw her. He too was still in the clothes he had worn the previous day while Snape was dressed in his customary heavy cloak, the dark colors contrasting drastically with sunshine spilling into the room behind him.

Ginny's eyes dropped from Draco's face to the cup he held in his hand as the bitter smell of coffee wafted under her nose. Her bare feet padding on the soft, unpolished wood of the floor, she crossed the room to pour herself a cup before returning to the table and sitting down.

As Ginny sipped quietly, the hot liquid scalding her tongue, Draco turned to explain to her, "Snape and I decided upon a plan last night."

Her brown eyes widened and flicked upwards to stare into the metallic depths of Draco's as she continued to drain her cup.

"You and I are going to stay here for a few days, to get some rest and prepare."

At this, Ginny set her cup down, what was left of the dark contents sloshing at the bottom of the cup, "What are we preparing for?"

Draco's eyes darkened, her face set in a look of steely resolve as he said with a tone of tense anticipation mixed with determination in his voice, "For the trip to Hogwarts. And then the final battle."

Ginny pinched her lips together in thought, her eyes tracing the grain of the wooden table before they lifted back upwards to meet silver ones again, "How do you plan we get there? We can't apparate, Voldemort is watching the apparation and floo networks, and I don't think we will be able to get a broom, you said it yourself: it's too dangerous to go anywhere near Wizarding London or Diagon Alley."

A grin, wicked and mischievous, one that made Ginny's heart thud in excitement, flickered onto Draco's face as he said, "We are going to trick people into transporting us."

Ginny crumpled her brows in confusion, "Don't the muggles do that all the time? Isn't it called bitch hiking or something?"

Draco let out a small laugh, "I believe they call it _hitch_ hiking. And what we are doing is a little bit different. We are going to con our way onto trains and into houses until we find our way to Hogwarts. It's cheaper than paying and a little more moral than stealing. Plus we get to have a little fun."

Ginny laughed, her head tilting backwards as her brown eyes hid themselves in hysterics, "You would really think that with all that has happened, fun wouldn't be at the top of your list of priorities."

Draco smirked in amusement before lifting his mercury eyes to her brown ones, "If all goes as planned, we aren't going to be fighting at Hogwarts this time. It isn't going to be a normal battle, with an agreed date and a battlefield and two properly organized lines of approaching soldiers. If everything goes according to my plan, we will sneak into the Manor during one of the biggest Death Eater celebrations. If all goes according to plan, that will be the last battle ever fought between the Order and Death Eaters. It will be the deciding battle. But if we are going to con our way into the celebration in order to set up an attack, we need to practice. Death Eaters are the least likely to believe amateur lies. My father especially. We won't easily be able to fool Lucius at his own party."

Tugging the hood over her head to protect the mass of red tangles, Ginny stepped out into the rain as it pounded onto the narrow cobblestone streets. Behind her, Draco stepped out as well, wrapped in an identical cloak borrowed from his godfather.

Draco tilted his face towards the angry black clouds and murmured something before setting off at a brisk pace down the street.

Draco stood outside, his back against a cement pillar, the cold seeping through his jacket to nip, claw, bite, at his skin as he took a slow drag from the cigarette in his mouth and watched the bustling people walk by.

Taking the cigarette from between his lips, Draco puffed a ring of smoke into the cold, lifeless air as he stared thoughtfully at the cigarette, the embers glowing brightly against the ivory paper. As he stared, his thoughts drifted to what Sofie had whispered to him about Ginny, right before he had killed her.

With the knowledge that Ginny had been purposefully targeted had come the knowledge that she was in more trouble than most if they the constant companion of the most wanted man in Europe. Draco knew she wasn't safe, and yet, a small voice asked him in the back of his mind, was she really safe anywhere but with him?

There was no one else who could protect her as he could, no one who could instruct her how to protect herself. Draco knew that the Death Eaters would double their efforts trying to catch the two of them now that they knew they had singlehandedly destroyed a battalion of over a dozen Death Eaters.

They were the two most wanted wizards in London, aside from Harry Potter himself. Perhaps they _were_ wanted more than Harry. After all, Voldemort just wanted to kill Potter, he would torture Draco for days and do God-knows-what to Ginny.

Grappling with his instinct to clutch tightly to the small redhead and protect her from everything in the world, Draco asked himself, would Ginny be safer on her own? Was he just dragging her into a battle she didn't need to be involved in?

No, Draco shook his head, Ginny deserved revenge more than anyone else. The dead were dead, they didn't have to live with pain, they were finished with suffering. Ginny, Draco knew, wasn't finished suffering.

Quickly, taking another drag from a cigarette, Draco resolved to stay by her side, both for her protection and his, and to keep his knowledge a secret from her for longer. Ginny had just begun sleeping all night again, he didn't want to disturb that. They weren't going to get much sleep for the next few months as it was.

Ginny calmly walked into the train station as Draco had instructed, her bare feet cold on the marble floor as muggles milled hurriedly around, dragging suitcases and children behind them. One small boy dropped a piece of candy as his mother pulled him along. He began to cry, his face turning red as his nose dripped, a small wailing sound Ginny had heard far too often in her childhood emitting from his lungs. His mother only spared a glance, pressing her finger to her lips and hushing him, before she continued along, her grip firm, but not entirely unkind, on his hand.

The redhead shivered, grabbing at her arms, trying to hide her thin nightgown, as she had left her coat with outside with Draco, where he leaned nonchalantly against one of the pillars, a cigarette between his lips.

Spotting a kind-looking middle aged couple, Ginny stepped in the line to the ticket booth, placing herself just in front of them. As she waited for the line to move, she tried to look as uncomfortable as possible: curling her toes under her feet, wrapping her arms around herself, glancing from side to side.

Finally, the man in front of her had his ticket to the train and stepped out of her way. Ginny stepped to the booth, glancing to the board behind the strict-looking salesman as she asked for one ticket back to Kent.

The bored-looking teller murmured a price far too high and Ginny acted just as she knew Draco wanted her to. Her face slowly fell and she stood on her toes, leaning over the counter and pleading with the teller to sell the ticket for a lower price, knowing her would refuse.

Tears began to fall and Ginny began to weave a sad story, entirely false.

"Please, sir. I have to get back home. I have to see my parents! My mother– my mother is dying. I just got the news this morning. I haven't seen her in two years, ever since I ran away. I haven't talked to her in so long. But today, I finally heard from my father. He sent me a letter and I opened it. It told me of my mother's cancer, that the doctors were unable to do anything. They said she had only a few weeks left to live. I told my boyfriend, Jake, that I had to go see her, but he said I had to choose between living with him or moving back to my parents, that I couldn't have them both. And I chose to see my mum one last time–" The tears flowed freely down her face as she let all her fear for her parents fuse itself into the lie she was telling, her nose turning as pink as the child who had dropped his lollipop. "But he kicked me out without letting me get my belongings. I don't have any money! I have to see my mum one last time!"

The teller looked emotionlessly at her as she cried before saying, "If you can't pay, step aside, please."

"Please! Please! I have to see my mum before she dies!"

"Leave or I will summon guards." The teller said dryly, his bored expression the same.

Ginny sniffled once more, knowing she couldn't get escorted by guards, and walked away from the teller, sitting herself on a nearby bench beside a potted fern, her tears– real ones– still sliding down her face.

Ginny sat for a few minutes, her face hidden by a curtain of vibrant red tangles as she stared at her blackened feet, looking comparatively uncivilized next to the shining white marble floor. Tears fell slowly to the ground, a small puddle forming between her feet, as she hugged her body, trying to stay warm in the chilly room.

The sound of soft footsteps reached her ears right before a pair of shoes appeared in her line of vision and a warm hand grazed her back.

"Dearie" It was one word, holding all uncertainty in it, reminding her so fully of her own mother than Ginny burst into tears again, her heart shredding itself as her rapier mind flitted through all the possible places the warm woman whose dimples she had inherited could be.

Lifting her head, Ginny saw a small, squat blond woman, her blue eyes sparkling kindly as she smiled a shy smile at the redhead, her hand rubbing soft circles.

"Dearie," The woman started again, seemingly lost for words, "I know things are hard right now, but I want to help you. My son ran away a few years ago and we" She gestured to her husband, standing ten feet away "We haven't seen him since. Now I want you to take this money and see your mother one last time." She stuffed a wad of bills into Ginny's hand, grabbing it softly and squeezing it.

A look of uncertainty passed over Ginny's face, "But I couldn't take your money. Surely you need it."

The small woman smiled, her blue eyes twinkling, "Not as much as you do dear. Now go see your mum and say goodbye to her."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes, I'm sure dear. I just hope that in time this will all come back to me. Maybe I'll be able to see Andrew again before I die." With that, the woman gave one last sorrowful smile before she stood and strolled over to her husband, reaching out her hand to him, and they strolled off down the marble hallway to their final destination.

Outside, Ginny wiped her eyes of the tears before walking to where Draco leaned against a pillar, a cigarette between two thin lips. Standing in front of him, Ginny silently pulled out the wad of muggle money and showed it to him.

His lips twisting into a grin around the cigarette, Draco took it out of his mouth, throwing it to the ground and gently crushing it with his foot, before he helped Ginny into her cloak and, taking her hand, lead her off down the cobblestone streets.

The small bell overhead tinkled as they opened the door, stepping into the shop and pulling the damp, velvet hoods from their heads. Breathing in deeply, she smelled the musk and mothballs, the smell of old clothes and, strangely, a hint of cinnamon hidden underneath it all.

Ginny wound her way to the back of the store and began sifting through the piles of clothing, looking for anything she knew she could wear more than once without having to spend time washing it.

Quietly stepping over to a rack of bags, she picked up a messenger bag, feeling the soft, nearly black leather between her fingers, her head turning sideways as she tried to think of a spell that would make it larger on the inside, a spell like the one that had been used on the interior of Headquarters, but on a smaller scale. Tossing the supple leather bag over her shoulder, Ginny walked back over to the pile of clothes, silently examining a heavy button-up corduroy jacket, its frayed brown elbow looking as if it only needed a small patch.

The bell above their heads chimed once more as they exited the shop, Ginny carrying a bag filled with an assortment of sturdy clothes: winter jackets, jeans, long sleeved shirts, as well as a few sun dresses and the soft messenger bag she had picked up. Draco held a similar bag, his filled with a similar arrangement of clothes, his other hand clasped gently around Ginny's small, pale fingers.

As they walked, Draco felt the small amount of money left over jingle against his thigh. As they turned down a narrow street, the clouds suddenly parted and Draco felt himself grinning as he dropped the hood of his cloak and shook the spare water droplets off of his hair.

A noise of protest came from the small redhead at his side as he sprayed her with water, "Hey! Stop that."

Draco turned and grinned at her mischievously and silently took her hand and kissed it, before turning his eyes upwards at hers and asking, "Does that make it better?"

Ginny's mouth twisted into a smile as she said, nonchalantly, "I suppose it does."

Ginny let out a sigh of contentment as she stepped out of the warm shower, her hair wrapped in a towel, and slipped on a pair of new– yet, borrowed– jeans. She hadn't realized how much she missed just being clean, feeling her skin when she rubbed her fingertips together, rather than a layer of obnoxious grime. She knew, though, that it would be something she would soon miss again once she was on the road, sleeping in the woods and walking for miles every day, with Draco at her side.

Wiping the fog off the mirror, she quickly examined her face before throwing on a white t-shirt and exiting the bathroom. Stepping into the room she shared with Draco, she saw him sitting on the floor, his back against the bed, as he delved into another world composed of paper and ink.

Sitting across from the blond boy, she watched as his pale hair sparkled in the sun slanting through the windows, his strong hands, faint scars tracing the backs of them, calluses on the fingers – the hands of a warrior– gently held the book. Focusing on the book itself, Ginny saw that it was bound in black leather, the title captured in a gilded font.

"Dante's Inferno? I didn't know you had a penchant for muggle literature." Ginny said, brushing a strand of wet hair behind her ear.

Without looking up, Draco said, "When I was young, my mother would read the muggle fairy tales to me before I fell asleep, Snow White, Cinderella, all the famous ones, even some of the more vague ones." Draco said, mentally flashing backward through the years until he was a small boy again, his small pale hands gripping the covers of an open book as he sat on the warm lap of his mother, her silky blonde hair–now flecked with gray– flowing past her shoulders as she whispered the lines quietly for fear Lucius would hear the words through the walls. Draco had learned from an early age what an affect words could have when his father burst into the room one night, having kicked in the door when Narcissa spoke too loudly, his face flushed and red, words spewing angrily from his mouth like venom, before he grabbed the book from his mother's hands, knocking the frail woman to the ground as she protested, before he set the book aflame. The flames reflected on Draco's small pale face, his eyes wide as his father carelessly dropped the ashes on the ground, grinding them into the rich carpet with the toe of a boot before marching stormily away. Draco had cowered beside his mother on the ground, his small heart pounding like a frightened bird against the confines of a cage, his body too paralyzed to stop the abuse.

"She would whisper the story lines so my father didn't hear the tales. He's always hated muggle stories, he thinks they're useless garbage. My mother, however, was able to see the beauty in them. Most wizard literature is composed of facts, not of stories. A life without a story, she always told me, was not worth living." Draco flipped to the next page with the sound of paper sliding gently against skin.

"What part are you on?" Ginny asked curiously.

Draco gently closed the book, his eyes lifting to hers, as he quoted_, __"'I could never have believed that death had undone so many."_

Smirking, Ginny replied, "'_When we read that a smile so desired was kissed by so great a lover, this man, who will never be parted from me, kissed my mouth, all trembling.'" _Leaning closer to Draco, Ginny whispered quietly, "We're not in hell yet, you should enjoy it while you can."

Draco suddenly pressed her lips to his, his hands weaving behind her head and tangling through her hair, pressing her face to his as if to almost compress her body into his. With as much abruptness as he had kissed her, he pulled away, his eyes sparkling, before he stood, dropping the book on his bed as he walked soundlessly away.

Ginny stood and padded across the room to her bag, reaching into its depths to put on the necklace her mother had given her for her birthday. As she slipped the delicate chain over her head, something caught her eye. Staring carefully at the chain, Ginny saw a slight discoloration: every few links in the chain had turned from a bronze-red to deathly black. Quickly going through the chain, Ginny spotted the links with Tonks' and Remus' names etched into their sides.

The links were charred black.

"Draco!" Ginny yelled from where she stood, frozen in the corner of the room by the small black leather chest.

The door swung open and Draco flew out, shirtless, wand at the ready. Seeing Ginny standing alone in the corner of the room, dumbfounded with the necklace between her fingers, a scowl passed over his face as he pocketed his wand.

"You've got to stop doing that."

"Sorry. Come look at this!" Ginny said, holding the necklace out.

An eyebrow lifted in curiosity, Draco crossed the room and gently took the necklace from Ginny's hands.

Pointing to the links, Ginny said, "All the links belonging to people who died–"

"Have been blacked out." Draco finished her sentence, running his fingers along the edge of the necklace as he quickly counted the names. "Well, fuck."

"What?" Ginny asked, staring impatiently at the necklace, begging it to yield all its secrets.

"I counted twenty-eight names blacked out. That's twice our original estimate. That leaves only thirty survivors of the massacre. They nearly wiped out half of us." Draco's hands clenched angrily around the necklace, his jaw tightening.

Ginny gently pried his hands off the necklace before turning the clock's face towards her. Reading it, she saw all the names on the delicate silver hands were pointed towards_ In Hiding. _Ginny smiled, thinking of her mother's foresight to have thought of such a thing.

"He says he still hasn't heard anything from any other members of the Order and he wants to know how we plan on getting to Hogwarts." Ginny murmured quietly, reading the red-gold words of one of her brothers printed on her arm as she sat in the dim kitchen. Through the window, the sun was setting, the color of blood spreading slowly across the sky like a wound.

Draco stood with his back to Ginny, staring thoughtfully out at the sky, as he replied, "Tell him that, in order to stay alive, we are going to _persuade_ others to help us. There will also be a lot of hiking. Tell him to steal some comfortable shoes and to stay in small groups as they travel."

Ginny quietly whispered into the tip of her wand, watching as the words wrote themselves in red-gold ink onto the pearly opalescent skin of her forearm before fading gently.

Draco stared quietly as the sun disappeared behind the horizon before he turned quickly and strode towards Ginny. Staring deeply into her brown eyes, he stooped and brushed a gentle kiss onto her lips before standing abruptly, his long hand wrapping around hers, and gently lead her out of the room, the heavy kitchen door swinging behind them.

Ginny stumbled down the steel staircase in the dark, straining her eyes to see whatever Draco was heading towards. Brushing her hands on the walls, she felt that it was made of cold, unyielding stone. The air suddenly became cold, bumps rising on her arms.

Finally, she saw the outline of a door ahead, illuminated by the light emanating from behind it. Draco pushed it open, the light flooding into the dark hallway, and Ginny stepped inside to see a swirl of colored smoke.

Acid green, electric blue, blood red, and poisonous purple clouds rose from dozens –hundreds, even– of ebony iron cauldrons lining the bookshelves, covering the tables, sitting on the floor. In the midst of it all, directing each experiment, caring tenderly for every individual potion, as if he were conducting a grand orchestra, his wand lifted in mid-air as if it were a baton, stood Snape, towering in his black robes, the smoke swirling around him, and yet, seeming as if it never once touched his dark figure.

Leaning against the doorframe, Draco drawled, "How are the potions coming?"

Snape's head snapped upward quickly, his eyes sharply focusing on his godson as he was snapped out of the fog of his potions. "They'll be done in a few days," The dark man said briskly, before continuing, "You're lucky I had a few lying around already nearly made."

Draco nodded his head silently before turning away and walking back through the dark twists of the basement. Ginny looked back at Snape, sparing him a last glance before following.

Snape stood crouched over his potions, tending to them carefully as if they were lovers. His face was tender, soft, an expression the redhead had never seen on the hard-lined face of the stern potions master. A small feeling of sadness settled in the pit of her stomach as she thought of how lonely he must be, with only potions for company.

Ginny quickly ran after Draco, knowing that, as long as she was with him, she would never meet the same fate as the unhappy, isolated potions master.

"What were the potions for?" Ginny asked as they stood on the corner of the street, her shoulder leaning against the stone building, a sharp corner of one stone digging painfully beneath her ribcage, as her sharp eyes surreptitiously glanced around the moving crowd. Men in business suits crossed the street, children held tightly onto parents' hands as they crossed busy streets, women chatted busily with one another, none paying attention to the two magical, conspicuous teenagers on the street corner.

Draco ran his fingers through his hair absentmindedly before turning to Ginny, his grey eyes focused on hers, and spoke around the cigarette in his mouth, "They're polyjuice potions. When we steal our way into the Death Eater celebration, we will need fool-proof disguises. The only way to do this is to drink polyjuice potions. They can be properly stored for months, so there's no need to fear expiration dates. But now we need to steal some hair to add to the potion."

Ginny nodded silently before asking, "What exactly are the Death Eaters celebrating?"

Turning his gaze towards the bustling crowd, Draco murmured, "Voldemort's birthday."

"How old is he?"

"No one really knows, actually. Except Dumbledore, I guess."

Ginny nodded again, returning her gaze to the crowd as silence ensued.

The crowd bustled, men, women, and children crossing streets hurriedly, without any worry of imminent world destruction. Ginny once again interrupted the silence, "I didn't know you smoked."

Draco snorted in response.

"What?"

"You're so full of questions today."

Ginny smirked, "That wasn't a question, it was a comment."

Draco waved his hand in the air, dismissing the comment as he murmured, "Technicalities."

Ginny raised her eyebrows in anticipation, waiting for Draco to answer the question.

The blonde man took the cigarette out of his mouth and looked at it, almost as if he were about to ask it of its opinion on their relationship. "I don't really, I used to smoke them, back in my Slytherin days. It's something my father taught me, when I was younger. If he was in an important business meeting or an unusually good mood and he saw me, he would tell me to sit down and have a smoke with him. I used to rejoice in those moments, as they were a sign that my father saw me as an equal. But now I use it more as a way to blend in. No one wants to stay too long around someone with a cigarette, the smoke bothers them."

Ginny nodded silently as her gaze wandered over a petite brunette, her auburn waves sparkling in the sunlight. Ginny turned her face to Draco's once again, motioning to the twenty-something woman and silently asked approval with a raise of a thin, red eyebrow.

Draco nodded in agreement, throwing the cigarette to the ground and stamping on it before beginning to walk down the street, Ginny following beside him.

Looking forward, Ginny saw the woman heading toward them, her black heels clicking on the sidewalk. She stopped for a moment, searching the depths of the dark bag on her shoulder for something before pulling a cell phone out and punching a few numbers into it before attaching it to her ear.

Ginny veered away from Draco as they walked towards the auburn haired woman, leaving enough space between their shoulders for her to fit. Just as the small woman stopped to examine a storefront, Draco's shoulder collided with hers, sending the contents of her bag skidding across the cement.

As Draco and the young woman– Now that she was closer, Ginny could see a subtle roundness in her cheeks and supple pink lips and estimated her to be around twenty– crouched on the sidewalk to gather her possessions; Draco frantically apologized as his fingers scraped along the cement, slyly slipping her leather wallet into his pocket as he handed her a tube of lipstick.

As the woman quickly accepted the small tube, her blue eyes glancing over Draco's face as a small smile graced her lips and a blush rose to her smooth cheeks, Ginny slipped quietly by, barely brushing the woman before smoothly walking down the street.

Draco's silver eyes followed the movements of the redhead down the corner before flicking back to the woman. Standing from his crouched position, Draco apologized once again, sheepishly staring at the ground as his hand ruffled the hair on the back of his head. As he moved to walk on down the street, a small hand on his elbow stopped him.

Turning, he saw the bright blue eyes of the woman staring up into his face as her pink lips formed the words, "Wait. I know we don't know each other, but I was wondering if you would want to go for coffee later?"

Concealing a smile, Draco looked down at the petite woman, and replied, "I'm sorry, but I have a girlfriend." Before he turned and walked down the smooth sidewalk path to meet Ginny at the corner.

Draco rounded the corner of the brick building to the sight of Ginny perched on a long wooden bench, her hands, everything but the tips of her fingers covered in a light gray sweater too bulky and long for her small figure, clutched the edge of the seat as she stared at the cement sidewalk and her feet swung absentmindedly, like a child on a swing.

Smiling, he sat down next to her, bringing his arm around her shoulders as she leaned into his chest. Leaning back so that his head rested against the brick of the building behind them, Draco murmured quietly, "That woman asked me on a date."

Lifting her head from the comfort of his embrace, Ginny looked carefully into Draco's eyes as she asked, her voice hesitant "What did you say?"

Smirking, Draco replied, "I told her I have a girlfriend."

Ginny nodded as if this thought made her happy before replying, "Do you have a girlfriend?"

Leaning his head back, Draco thoughtfully stared at the sky for a moment, a brilliant blue canvas swirled with wisps of clouds, before returning his eyes to hers, his answer not a proposal, but a sincere question, "Do you want to be my girlfriend?"

Without hesitation, Ginny replied, "Do you want me to be your girlfriend?"

Sighing, Draco realized that Ginny could answer any question he asked her with another. Leaning backwards once again, the brick cool on his head, Draco murmured, "'_Girlfriend'_ seems like such an inadequate word. Since I found you in that alley back in the beginning of July, I haven't left your side. And, honestly, I don't plan on doing so any time in the future either. But I think it would be nice to have a title to what we are."

Smiling, Ginny turned back to the busy street and nodded to herself, "Girlfriend it is."

A few moments passed as they both scanned the crowd before Ginny turned to Draco, an auburn strand in her hand, "I got it, by the way."

Draco grinned before plucking the hair from her hands and sealing it in an envelope. Standing, Draco turned his back to the swarming pedestrians, shielding his hands from their prying eyes as he drew his wand from a pocket in his jacket and tapped the thick, ivory envelope twice, causing royal blue sparks to fly as the paper sealed itself and took flight towards the heavens. Ginny looked after it as it flew out of sight, knowing she would see it again in Spinners End.

Rejoining Ginny on the bench, Draco pulled her close to his chest as they relaxed in the mid-afternoon sun and searched for another target.

Hope you liked it! Review!

I worked my ass off!

Special thanks to those who reviewed last time!

Katy


	24. Duplicity

Greetings, fellow lovers of literature!

You may be confused with the beginning of this chapter. As always, just roll with my eccentricity. Thank you.

Disclaimer: JKR owns all, 30 Seconds to Mars owns the song _Night of the Hunter._

(Love that band.)

Shout out to boyfriend, who has just begun reading my stuff. Happy one year, ten day anniversary haha

Enjoy!

Chapter 24: Duplicity

_I was born of the womb of a poisonous man _

_Beaten and broken and chased from the land _

_But I rise up above it, high up above it and see _

_I was hung from a tree made of tongues of the weak _

_The branches, the bones of the liars and thieves _

_Rise up above it, high up above and see _

_Pray to your god, open your heart _

_Whatever you do, don't be afraid of the dark _

_Cover your eyes, the devil's inside _

_One night of the hunter _

_One day I will get revenge _

_One night to remember _

_One day it'll all just end _

_(Un, deux, trois, cinq) _

_Blessed by a bitch from a bastard seed _

_Pleasure to meet you but better to bleed _

_Rise, I will rise, I will rise _

_Skinned her alive, ripped her apart _

_Scattered her ashes, buried her heart _

_Rise up above it, high up above and see _

_Pray to your god, open your heart _

_Whatever you do, don't be afraid of the dark _

_Cover your eyes, the devil's inside _

_One night of the hunter _

_One day I will get revenge _

_One night to remember _

_One day it'll all just end _

_Honest to God I will break your heart _

_Tear you to pieces and rip you apart _

_Honest to God I will break your heart _

_Tear you to pieces and rip you apart _

_Honest to God I will break your heart _

_Tear you to pieces and rip you apart _

_Honest to God I will break your heart _

_Tear you to pieces and rip you apart _

_One night of the hunter _

_One day I will get revenge _

_One night to remember _

_One day it'll all just end_

_-Night of the Hunter by Thirty Seconds to Mars_

Draco's heart pounded in his chest as he ran through the night, only the sound of his breathing to accompany him. A jet of light flew through the air as he jumped behind a nearby tree, the lethal spell whizzing past into the darkness.

Casting his eyes upward at the sky, his back to the oak tree he hid behind, his silver eyes met the twinkling stars. Draco took a single deep breath as he gazed above before returning his mind to the task at hand.

His fingers splayed against the trunk of the tree as his muscles coiled and he pushed himself away from the bark, sprinting further into the darkness.

Dodging low branches and flying curses, he stealthily made his way through the forest, squinting his eyes as he came into view of a light shining into the darkness.

Tightening his grip on his wand, he silently squatted behind a bush, ignoring the cuts on his hand as he pushed back its thorny leaves to examine the scene before him.

Cloaked figures, hiding their identities with white masks, threw curses at approaching silhouettes. The approaching men kept falling, never to move again.

A battle. One that the Order appeared to be losing.

Draco knew that the moment he opened fire, the Death Eaters would know his location. He readied himself to move quickly.

Taking a step further into the darkness of the trees, Draco fired his first curse at a passing Death Eater, immediately taking off towards the east as the man burst into flames.

Still behind the trees, Draco watched gleefully as the Death Eaters swarmed to where he had been. Smirking, he fired another curse, this time watching as another Death Eater fell.

Hearing the thud of their fallen comrade, the Death Eaters glanced hurriedly around, searching for any sign of the elusive attacker. As they searched for him, Draco shot down another of their fellows, making sure the remaining ten had seen where the curse had come from.

Holding his wand carefully between his teeth, the leader of the Infernal Division climbed silently into the branches, seating himself in the arms of the tree as he watched the scene below.

The Death Eaters were quickly sprinting across the field. No, it was a yard, Draco realized as he scanned the scene. A giant mansion sat behind the giant clearing.

This was the light he had seen in the woods.

Malfoy Manor.

Draco silently cursed to himself before observing the scene closer. The faces of the Order members seemed to be as confused as those of the Death Eaters; they had no idea who was firing the shots either.

Observing the masked figures approaching, Draco could tell that they were lower ranking Death Eaters, with little training. They were expendables.

Smirking to himself, Draco knew he would have no trouble dispatching the remaining Death Eaters. Neither would the rest of the team, so where were they?

They obviously weren't with the group in the clearing; Ginny alone would have been able to kill these nine men without resistance.

Eyes flickering towards the house, Draco knew where his team was. They would be where the true danger was: fighting Bellatrix and Lucius, maybe even Voldemort himself.

The remaining Death Eaters had gathered at the base of the tree he sat in, his silver eyes analyzing them before he quietly stood, aiming his wand at the face of one Death Eater.

Realizing he would need another wand to take down eight Death Eaters, Draco quickly disarmed the man and ended his life in what seemed like the same spell. Catching the flying wand, he ran to the end of the thick branch as spells flew at him.

Draco ignored the nagging voice in the back of his head that told him he was nearly twenty feet in the air, that he should be afraid, as he jumped off the end of the branch. He had never been one for fears.

Landing on the grass, he rolled onto one knee, firing more curses at the approaching band of Death Eaters, shooting four more to the ground before they had neared him.

As the final four surrounded him, their black hoods casting grey shadows on their skull-like masks, Draco readied his body for action, his muscles coiling, his feet spreading slightly apart causing the earth to shift under his weight.

As one of the hooded figures shot a curse at Draco, the silver-eyed man smirked, ducking below the lethal jet of light as it passed over his head and hit the Death Eater on the other side.

Springing into action, Draco shot a curse at one of the remaining three, immediately jumping into the air as the light left his wand, his body twisting through the air, parallel to the ground as another curse flew through the air below him.

As the last two Eaters ran towards him from opposite sides in a last attempt to bring him down, their dark capes billowing behind them as their masks yielded as much emotion as the dead. Draco stood still, waiting for the two to close in on him.

When they were close enough, Draco pointed his wand at one, quickly cursing him without words, as he bent his knee towards him, power building within his muscles before he released the energy, his foot colliding with the chest of the final Death Eater.

His pace as silent and ethereal as a panther's, Draco slowly approached the dark shape of the Death Eater on the grass, where he had landed after Draco had kicked him. Drawing his wand, Draco quickly killed the last lower-level Death Eater before silently sprinting through the yard towards the large, looming manor, his heart pounding out an irregular beat.

Kicking in the door, the sounds of battle met Draco's ears.

Cries, screams, the shattering of glass.

Making his way through the house, he noticed that everything was how he had left it, _exactly_ how he had left it.

Lucius' cloak still hung in the closet near the entrance, where a house elf had placed it after the evil silver-haired man had dropped it carelessly on the ground as he slunk into his house, the sound of his cane thumping on the ground echoing throughout the enormous house.

A corner of the light blue carpet in the parlor was flipped upwards from when Draco had tripped over it while pacing the night of his flight from this hellhole.

The mirror Draco had bounced his spell off of to knock out his father was still cracked.

Slinking throughout countless deserted rooms, Draco finally found the scene of the battle: the grand ballroom.

His silver eyes were met with the sight of black-clad figures, spinning and twirling, each participating in a deathly dance that reminded Draco oddly of the Death Eater balls he had taken part in during his former life. Spells flew throughout the expansive room, coloring the rich, cream walls, cracking the broad windows, the white marble floors and looming pillars, and causing the occasional chandelier to come crashing to the ground with a scattering of diamonds.

Walking to a white marble railing, traced with intricate carvings, Draco placed his hands carefully on it, staring down at the scene. A flash of red in the corner of the ballroom alerted Draco to Ginny's presence, where she battled fiercely against Bellatrix.

Scanning the ballroom further, Draco found the other four members of his team.

But not his father.

A crash in the ballroom brought his attention back to Ginny, where she lay in the midst of a circle of diamonds, shrapnel from a fallen chandelier, as Bellatrix slowly approached her, her maniacal laugh bouncing off the walls and causing all of the other death dances to freeze momentarily.

Get up Ginny, Draco urged her in his mind. But no, he saw she wasn't going to.

Realizing this, Draco took off immediately, his feet barely touching the steps as he ran onto the floor of the ballroom, all people ceasing to exist in his vision but the redhead sprawled on the ground, all thoughts disappearing but the one that beat to the rhythm of his heart as he raced towards her:

_Save Ginny, save her._

As he ran through the ballroom, his feet slamming against the marble floor, Draco dodged wayward spells and flying bodies to reach his target. Just before he reached Ginny, someone stepped out in front of him.

Draco dropped to the ground, his body sliding into the legs of the Death Eater and causing him to topple. Without stopping, Draco rolled onto his feet again and continued his hell-bent run towards Ginny, the thankful words from Fred, whose Death Eater had been tripped by Draco, echoing in his ears.

Ginny's screams pierced through the smothering, deafening cloud of cries of battle as Draco neared her.

As Draco's silver gaze took in the scene, he saw Ginny, her small, fragile body, the one that needed so much protection from him, bending in agony. Her brown eyes were closed, hidden from him, hidden from the world as she tried to conceal herself from the pain she felt.

As Draco watched the girl he loved being tortured, he felt a murderous rage curdling within his heart.

As anger burned throughout his body, filling his muscles with energy, he turned towards his Aunt, whose back was to him; just before he did, he saw another body join Ginny's, taking her small fragile hand and holding it.

The girl in the white dress.

She looked up at him, her green eyes wide, yet accusing for it was he who could have stopped her own pain, but hadn't.

Guilt accompanied anger as he saw the girl kneel next to Ginny, wiping the sweat from the other girl's red bangs as she held on to Ginny's small hand, trying to offer her some of the comfort she herself hadn't felt in death.

Staring at their clasped hands, Draco felt his mind leave the present and travel backwards in time to when he saw Lucius' boot come crashing down on that same hand, crushing all hope she could have ever wished for.

Opening his eyes, Draco pointed his wand at the back of his Aunt's head, her dark hair curling and wild, and he wordlessly disarmed her, seeing Ginny's body sag in relief in the periphery of his vision.

Bellatrix turned and smirked at her nephew. Bending slowly down, she grabbed a knife from her hardy leather boot.

As she straightened up, Bellatrix brought the tip of the knife to her lips, playing softly with it as she began to circle him as a vulture circles its prey.

"Well, well, well, if it isn't my favorite nephew!" Bellatrix said, a hint of sarcasm in her delirious voice.

"I'm your only nephew" Draco couldn't help pointing it out, as he wondered what she was doing.

"Ah, right you are." Bellatrix said, taking one more step before she threw her knife at him.

The dagger sang through the air, whizzing past Draco's nose by centimeters before it clattered to the marble ground.

Staring into the merciless black eyes of Bellatrix, Draco levitated his Aunt upwards, his entire being devoid of all emotion, as he silently threw her body against a marble wall, repeatedly. As the scene of Ginny's torture replayed in his mind, Draco's silver eyes were cold as he watched, detached, all emotions absent, as the fragile, doll-like body of his Aunt slammed into the marble.

Suddenly, a loud crack echoed through the room and blood trickled down the white marble.

Draco released the spell and the body of his Aunt fell lifelessly to the ground like a doll, her appendages without strength, her eyes without life.

Turning back to the two girls, Draco saw that Ginny was unconscious, while the unnamed girl, the girl in the tattered white dress, stared silently at him.

He could imagine what she was thinking; he had often thought it himself.

You're just like your father, cold and calculating, emotionless, merciless. Cruel.

Sadistic.

He wanted to agree with her, express the fact that he knew what he was, who he was.

Instead, he asked, "What's your name?"

She smiled faintly, the beauty mark above her lips rising with the action, "Hope."

Of course it was.

Draco then knelt beside Ginny, pressing his ear to her chest, relief spreading through his cold body when he heard a light thumping in her chest.

At least she was alive.

Another scream pierced through the ballroom. Draco whipped his head to see Ginny was still unconscious.

Hope.

Draco turned to look at Hope, whose face had frozen into a look of such horror, he was surprised she hadn't run away. Looking over his shoulder, Draco saw Lucius standing behind him, leaning on his silver snakehead cane, the classic Malfoy smirk plastered over his cold features.

Draco stood to meet his father, placing himself between Lucius and the girls, his wand clutched in his hand.

"What are you doing here, Lucius?" Draco smirked, "I beat you the last time we fought. I just killed Bellatrix, who, we all know, could have whipped your ass any day. So why are you here?"

His face stone cold, Lucius leaned on his cane slightly, his stance as aristocratic as ever, his chin held high as he looked down upon the unconscious redhead, the terrified Hope, at his son. "Father." He corrected.

Draco narrowed his eyes slightly, the only sign he was confused, "What?"

"Father. I am your father, Draco." He continued, some of the forceful venom Draco had often heard at midnight when he was at his father's mercy lacing his words, "You will refer to me that way."

Draco scoffed, spitting his words at the man before him, "You're not my father. You never have been."

Lucius rolled his stone-cold eyes, tired of his young son's antics, "Draco, Draco, Draco," He mocked quietly, his voice bouncing off of the marble walls as pairs battled to the death around them, "When will you accept that the same blood that runs in my veins, runs in yours as well?" Without another word, Lucius struck, whipping his wand out of his cane and letting the shell clatter to the marble floor, before he threw a powerful curse at Draco.

Draco ducked, leaving the curse to blow a hole through the marble wall behind him.

Straightening up, Draco pushed back the sleeves of his light blue shirt and threw a curse at his father, Bellatrix's wand in his other hand.

Not surprisingly, Lucius dodged the spell.

Lucius wouldn't fall so easily, he would have to be outsmarted.

Just as Lucius shot another curse at his son, Draco used the two wands in his hands to throw a curse at his father and then immediately create a shield, watching as the blue bolt of lightning from his father's wand hit the invisible barrier.

Suddenly, his world dissolved simultaneously into chaos and order, as his surroundings blurred into swirling lights and yet, as his only focus became his father, standing at the end of the colorful, murky tunnel.

Draco dodged yet another curse, moving to the right to allow it to slam into the marble behind him. As he moved, the curse adjusted its path, turning to follow him.

Impossible, Draco thought, throwing up a shield to block it.

Instead, the curse slammed through the barrier, shattering the invisible shield. Draco's eyes widened just a fraction before the curse slammed into him, sending his body flying across the cold, marble floor, his back slamming into the wall as pieces of tile fell from above, striking his skull.

His body weak, the pain in his body forcing him under into the oblivion of unconsciousness, Draco slumped to the ground.

As Draco fell, the light fading from his eyes, he heard his father murmur, "You never beat me, Draco. You hit me in the back. A real man does not fight that way."

Weakly, he turned his head, his eyes searching for Ginny's. Locking with her brown eyes, seeing the love she held in them as her mouth opened slightly, as if to give him words of comfort.

Instead, a bloodcurdling scream tore through the night again, sending chills up his spine before he passed out, the taste of blood in his mouth.

Everything was black. And yet, the screams persisted.

They ripped through his world, tearing through the fabric of his reality and leaving enormous holes in their wake, holes he would never be able to piece together.

And then, they ripped him from the land of nightmares.

Draco jumped out of his bed of blankets and pine needles, the trees and night reigning above him, wand in hand as he searched for any sign of attack.

But, of course, it was just him and Ginny. Walking over to her sleeping form, he pulled her thrashing body into his arms, restraining her flailing arms with a soft smirk when they tried to punch him.

He soothingly whispered words into her ears, as if they were the counter to a curse, his words stringing together to form a lifeline to pull her from the claws of terror that held her so tightly.

Her eyelids flew open and, as if resurfacing from being drowned, she took a deep breath, her heart pounding in her chest.

Draco stared down at the small figure lying across his lap, her normally brown eyes forming large, endless pools of black, her skin ivory and opalescent as she was bathed in the silvery touch of the moonlight, her skin dotted with constellations of freckles.

They had left Spinner's End three days ago, in a flurry of packing and planning. After assuring they had the essentials, Draco decided to splurge a little, stealing pads of paper and pens as well as a few blankets and food supplies, aware that it wouldn't last them very long.

They had stuffed everything into Ginny's bag, Draco's eyes widening, after he had fit all their worldly possessions into the small bag, including a few deadly weapons, as Ginny simply slung the leather satchel over one thin shoulder with ease and flashed a smile at his surprised face.

After gathering the potions Snape had made them in his personal dungeon filled with fumes and hues and securing them, along with everything else they had to their names which was, admittedly, not much at all, the pair hurried out the door, aware they had lingered in one place for far too long.

Their goodbye had been short, fearing that tears could be brought with remaining on the topic of when, and if, they would see one another again.

Draco had stared into the dark, lonely eyes of his godfather, before looking down at the worn, callused hand the reserved potions master had offered and then, acting on impulse, had pulled him into a strong hug, his hand clapping the elder man's back.

Laying his hand on Draco's shoulder, Snape had looked him in the eye, his face weary, "Make me proud."

As Draco nodded in response, Snape had then asked Ginny to join him in the kitchen for a moment, leaving his godson alone in the parlor.

He didn't know what Snape had said to Ginny during those private moments in the kitchen, she had refused to reveal the information just yet, saying it was unimportant at the moment.

Draco had turned towards the door, his hand reaching for the handle, after Ginny and Snape had rejoined him, the voice of his godfather causing him to halt, the large dark door, its numbers falling off, halfway open.

"Draco." Snape had said, his eyes looking tired, but his body standing as tall and determined as ever, "Good luck."

Draco had nodded silently back, before taking Ginny's hand and searching the deserted street before taking off into the dark.

A final glance back at his godfather's lonely silhouette, standing at a small, dusty window, a tattered curtain pulled aside as he watched their silent progress, told Draco exactly how lonely the man truly was, with only his potions to love.

Just then, the crack of a branch thirty feet to his left woke him out of his memories. They had set up protective wards, but Draco's muscles tightened in anticipation anyway.

Drawing blankets around their shoulders, the pair watched silently as the towering trees yielded to smaller figures, clothed in black, weaving their way through the forest, looking for refugees.

Looking for them.

The Snatchers wandered around the area, their faces pale, the color leeched from them in the silver moonlight, as they seemed to sniff for the hiding pair.

The Snatchers searched the area for over an hour, seeming as if they were positive someone was hiding there.

Ginny and Draco waited and watched, their breath held, their hearts pounding loudly in fear of making a noise, until finally the Snatchers left. As the last Snatcher gave a final glance around the clearing, his eyes staring unseeingly directly at the huddling pair, and then turned to leave, his tattered clothing snagging on a branch before he tugged it loose and followed the others.

Draco and Ginny finally exhaled a silent sigh of relief, their bodies and minds still on high-alert as they both jumped up and began packing their belongings.

It had been too close of a call.

In the back of her mind, Ginny knew this might be a mistake; lightning never strikes the same place twice, but the close encounter–so, so close, not even twenty feet away, really – had left both of them scared and desperate for crowds to lose themselves in.

They wove their way through the crowd, his fingers wrapped tightly around hers as he changed direction erratically every few minute, the heavy leather bag on her shoulder slapping against her legs as she jogged to keep up, her red hair flying into her face every time she looked over her shoulder.

Soon, after he was sure no one could possibly have followed them, Draco slowed to a walk.

In the back of Ginny's mind, a voice pointed out just how paranoid the recent events had made him.

Or had he always been that way?

He walked silently. He slept with his wand under his pillow. His eyes automatically swept all corners of a room upon entering it. He sat with his back to a wall at all times, if at all possible. He was almost always ready for any attack.

The small voice in Ginny's mind confirmed her suspicions. He had always been just that paranoid.

Finally, Draco led her into a small coffee shop, striding towards the counter and purchasing two small sandwiches some of the remaining money they had. After devouring their food, the two stayed in the shop, planning their next move, until the owner began sweeping the floors and switching off lights, letting them know it was their time to leave.

Draco stood and silently led Ginny out of the store, walking a few blocks under the light of the pale moon before turning down a quiet, unoccupied alley. Taking Ginny's bag off of her shoulder, he rummaged through it until he found their sleeping bags and pulled them out as the small redhead curled up in a corner, her knees under her chin.

As she picked at a hole in her jeans, her quiet voice echoed through the cold alleyway, "Draco," she started.

His face turned towards her, his grey eyes black in the pale light, his hair and skin white. He could hear the terror in her voice, she was scared of the unknown, of possibly having to sleep in this alley for months, of not having a plan. He knew it, because he was too.

"What's going to happen to us?" She continued, her eyes meeting his

He was silent for a few minutes before responding quietly, "We will steal. Do whatever we can to survive. Whatever we can to make it to Hogwarts, to live until the final battle. Tomorrow we will come up with more of a plan. For now, sleep. You'll need your energy."

And Ginny silently complied, crawling into the heat of her sleeping bag and drifting slowly off into a land of nightmares, faithful that he would do whatever he could to protect her and that she would do the same for him.

In the small hours of the morning, before the sun even began to think about rising, Draco quickly shook Ginny awake, pulling her to her feet as she slowly gained consciousness, sweeping their few belongings under one arm as he dragged her quickly out of the back entrance of the alley.

As they stepped out of the dark alleyway, Ginny found herself fully awake, her eyes wide and searching the deserted streets for cause of alarm. As her eyes found none, she turned to Draco in questioning.

As she opened her mouth to ask why he had so rudely interrupted her sleep and, literally, dragged her out of bed, the sounds of grinding metal met her ears.

Understanding slowly dawned on Ginny's exhausted mind.

It was early morning, the muggle garbage men would be making their routes. They'd probably neared the alley and Draco had been afraid the strange men would accidentally run over their sleeping bodies.

Draco nodded his head to himself and slowly looked up at the early morning sky before turning towards Ginny, "Well, as long as we're awake, we might as well find some breakfast and start planning."

As the two walked down the narrow sidewalk wedged between two tall, brick buildings, moss covering the sides, Ginny eyed him carefully.

"Do you ever sleep?"

"Sleep? Who sleeps anymore? I now run off of a meager source of food and plenty of adrenaline."

"You've evolved far beyond human capabilities." Ginny said, rolling her eyes.

In the center of the city, they found their breakfast in the form of a fruit bin on the side of the street. Draco expertly picked the lock off of the bin and grabbed a few apples for each of them before strolling calmly away.

Tossing an apple at Ginny, he bit into his before saying, between mouthfuls, "We need to find a house. Living on the street isn't going to work for what I have planned."

"What do you have planned?" Ginny asked, taking a final bite of one of her apples and throwing the core to the side.

"We're going to find our way into a great source of money."

"So how are we going to get a house?"

Draco was silent for a moment before responding, "We'll find one. It will be abandoned, most likely for sale, but it will work for what I have planned."

The pair walked around the city as the sun slowly edged its way across the horizon, soft rays slowly warming their backs. As they searched for a house, it was almost easy for them to pretend that they were two normal people, looking for a house to settle down in, rather than two cold, starving teenagers, searching for a hour to squat on as they planned scams.

And, just for a little while, they did pretend that they were a couple, that they were safe and warm, and that they didn't have a care in the world.

Just for a few moments, they each entertained the fantasy that they were simply two unremarkable people, naively unaware of the current havoc sweeping across the nation.

And then, they found an abandoned townhouse, nondescript but for the red front door hanging precariously on its hinges, and they were immediately tossed from the folds of their secure and fortified daydreams and back into the cold, harsh reality in which they lived.

Draco spared a small glance at Ginny, his eyes sad at the loss of their shared reverie, as he slowly climbed the brick steps to the house, his hand sliding gently on the wrought iron railing, before swinging open the door and entering the slender house.

Ginny followed him to the top of the step, staring upwards at the now blue sky, wondering to herself exactly how long they would be able to stay until they were forced to move again. She then took a deep breath, looking down at her beaten sneakers before crossing the threshold into the dark house.

The feeling of the house shaking jolted Ginny awake. She turned her head around, taking in her surroundings. She sat on a sofa, covered in plastic. Around her, candles sat on low tables and high mantles, giving a dim light to the room. Deep royal blue curtains were drawn around the windows, but Ginny knew if she tugged them back, she would be greeted by an even deeper darkness.

Again, the house shook, but this time Ginny heard an accompanying _thump._ She slowly stood, searching for Draco and the source of the noise. She hadn't seen Draco vaulting towards the source, but she knew she would find him there.

Ginny wandered toward the front door, from where the vibrations were originating, stretching her legs, which were aching from not moving for so long.

In the entrance hall, which was narrow, dark, and eerily similar to the one Snape owned, Ginny saw Draco's outline standing at the door. As he raised his hand, he hit something and the house shook once again. Ginny tightened her grip on her wand and neared the scene, wondering what was happening.

Ginny quickly lit up the hallway and saw the Draco was alone, hammering the door back onto the house.

He squinted and looked into the light, his hand reaching upwards to shield his eyes, "Hey, I see you're awake."

Ginny quickly extinguished the light, "Yep. How long was I asleep?"

Draco was silent, mentally calculating the hours, before responding, "Around eleven hours, I would think."

Ginny's eyes grew wide, "You let me sleep that long? Why didn't you wake me up!"

Draco shrugged before turning back to continue nailing the door back on it's frame, "You needed to sleep. Besides, I did wake you up. I could have done this quietly with magic."

Ginny frowned, "Why aren't you using magic, anyway?"

"I've decided that the most we limit our magic is best, we don't know what the Death Eaters have the capability of measuring, for one. For all we know, they've developed a way of tracking us through our spell usage, just as they did through apparition. We should only use spells when it's necessary, or we are using it to hide ourselves. I have a feeling that a shielding spell should counteract anything they could possibly have. And, if we simply lessen our magic usage, we should be able to fly under the radar."

"You're possibly the most paranoid person I've ever met." Ginny said, rolling her eyes.

"Not at all, I don't have an eye that can see through my skull and watch for oncoming attacks like Mad-Eye did, now do I?" Draco hammered the final nail in the door, turning to face the redhead.

"I don't know, your left one has always looked a little funny to me."

"Damn, you noticed?" Draco responded, his face serious. "My paranoia is what is currently keeping us alive. I already set up a few wards, not too much, but just enough to protect us. Plus, the neighbors can't hear me hammering the door back together." Draco walked into the house, shutting the mended door behind him, and padded softly into the kitchen, "Come on, now that you're awake, we can begin planning."

They sat at a small wooden table, pieces of paper and pencils strewn across it, with two empty, chipped coffee mugs, a pair they had found lying in cobweb-filled cupboards, sitting quietly atop it all, as if demanding to be refilled. Draco stood, scooping up the two mugs and walking over to the stubborn black machine to demand more coffee from it, thumping it on the top with a fist.

Ginny leaned back in her chair, gripping the sides of the wooden seat with her fingers and closing her eyes as the first rays of the rising sun shone across her face, "Draco."

"Mhm?" He asked sleepily, hitting the coffee machine again in frustration as it refused to work properly.

"What exactly made you think that the Death Eaters could have found a way to track us through our magic use?"

"The Snatchers in the woods." He said as the coffee machine began to gurgle satisfyingly. "They stayed in the area too long; it seemed as if they knew we were in the area, but couldn't trace exactly where we were. I guess they had tracked us through our magic use earlier that day, but the wards and barriers later camouflaged it. It's just a guess though."

"Shouldn't we be carrying our weapons on us, in that case?"

"Yes, I meant to talk to you about that. You have them in your bag. We need to keep them on ourselves. Strap yours to your ankle or something before we go outside again."

Ginny's eyes flew open and she sat up hurriedly, "The other teams don't know! Can I send a message to them without revealing our location?"

Draco thought quietly to himself, "I suppose so. Tell them to limit all magic use, which also means contact with us. But remind them to alert us if they are captured. And tell them to carry their weapons."

Ginny quickly sent the message, knowing she would feel no tingling reply, and the two turned back to their stacks of paper, sifting through the ideas they had created while they sipped on coffee, swallowing the bitter, black liquid as if it held the secrets to survival.

"I like this one." Draco murmured after sometime, his tired eyes sharply scrutinizing several sheets of paper outlining one of their plans.

Ginny silently held out her hand for the paper and looked over it quietly. She nodded, her red hair bouncing with the motion, "Yeah, I think that should work."

Draco stifled a yawn and stretched before standing to find more coffee.

"You haven't slept in over a day, have you?" Ginny asked, her voice sharp.

"I've been through worse. Lack of sleep isn't going to kill me."

"It might if a band of Death Eaters were to break down our front door at this moment."

Draco smirked, "No, then the Death Eaters would be the ones to kill me."

Ginny rolled her eyes, "Go sleep. I'll keep watch over everything."

Draco awoke four hours later as he heard a noisy step creaking under Ginny's foot as she quietly tried to sneak upstairs, closely followed by her voice softly swearing.

"Well, I guess you're awake now, aren't you?" Ginny asked from her place on the stairs.

"Yep." Draco said, stretching before he rose from the couch and stepped over the plastic covering, which he had thrown on the floor before slipping into unconsciousness.

Draco walked over to where Ginny sat on the stairs, her chin in her hands, and asked her, "Where were you going?"

"Upstairs. I wanted to grab a quick shower and rinse the dirt out of my hair before we do anything today."

Draco nodded, silently running his hands through his own unwashed locks, "Probably best. A pair of unhygienic teenagers will definitely stand out."

Ginny nodded silently, reaching into her bag and handing Draco another set of his clothes, "You know, it's too bad we can't move into this place a little. Maybe take all of the coverings off the furniture, turn on a few lights."

"I thought about that, but we might have to leave in a hurry or someone might check in on this place. I think they'll notice if it looks like its been lived in. No one should know we were here."

Ginny smiled a small smile, "Well, you might want to put that plastic back on the couch before we leave then." She then stood and silently walked up the stairs, her leather bag swinging on her shoulder.

"I really wish we had another team member with us" Ginny sighed, as she sat at a small table outside, her eyes seeming to stare into Draco's, but really analyzing the crowd bustling about behind his figure.

"And why is that? Don't tell me you're getting sick of me already!" Draco teased pleasantly, his hands gently holding hers, a genuine-looking smile, she knew, was plastered on his face. Draco was nothing if not good at playing the role assigned to him.

"Not at all, I think it would probably make this easier to pull off, that's all. So, do you see anything interesting?" Ginny asked, her tone equally as pleasant, her words cryptic.

"Only your beautiful eyes, my darling." Draco replied, his eyes still scanning the crowd, but the grin on his face growing.

"I think I see something." Ginny said suddenly, her tone alert, "Directly behind you."

Draco calmly stood, moving to stand behind Ginny and help her with her chair as he stared at the crowd. A young man in a grey suit caught his eye and Draco watched as the man bustled around the town.

Draco reached his hand out to help Ginny out of her chair and, as he did so, gave her a small nod. The man was a good mark.

They both automatically began to walk in the direction of the man, holding hands and appearing, to the rest of the world, to be a nicely dressed couple enjoying a sunny afternoon of window-shopping.

They followed the man discreetly all day, watching him splurge on things that seemed so unnecessary to them, they watched him live in excess and they knew he wouldn't miss a few thousand dollars. They sighed as they watched him buy a back massager; he definitely had money to spare.

"How did a man like your father produce a son like you?"

They were both sitting on the floor, Draco with Dante's _Inferno_ in his hands as the candles flickered, casting eerie shadows on the shabby walls. Ginny had been looking at the links on her necklace, reading the names, memorizing the ones that had become charred because of deaths.

"What do you mean by that?" Draco asked, his face cast in shadow by the candlelight.

"Well," Ginny started, searching for the right words and then, impulsively, decided to be blunt, "Your father's a monster. But you, you're kind. How did that happen?"

Draco closed his book and dropped it to the floor, resting his head against the couch as he thought, "I suppose that many children overcome their backgrounds. Children are resilient and yes, I'm still a child in some respects, I suppose. Many people don't actually grow up until they're about fifty, if ever. But it's more than that. As brutal as Lucius is, I don't think he honestly wants to be that way. What he truly wants is to be a high-ranking official in the Death Eater society."

Ginny frowned, "But Death Eaters _are_ brutal. They're the epitome of brutal."

Draco gave a short, almost cynical, laugh, "I'm aware of exactly how brutal Death Eaters are. What I meant is that, like all people, Lucius has more than one layer to him. I think on the inside, he tries to appear normal. He seems to know something is wrong, a very small part of him understands that what he does is wrong. But another part, a much larger part, likes it, craves it, in fact. I think that this is one of the reasons why he taught me to teach a woman with respect. Another reason is, of course, that Death Eaters are brutal, but only in the shadows."

"What do you mean, only in the shadows?" Ginny asked from where she sat across from him, her legs curled under her as she stared into the dust-coated glass of the coffee table separating them.

"The Death Eaters are almost like a cult for high-ranking officials. Many very important political figures are members. Apparently when you enter politics, you happen to have some sort of sadistic streak." Draco smirked slightly and continued, "Because most of the Death Eaters," Draco added suddenly, thinking of the small shack they had raided a few nights ago that had contained the lower-ranking Death Eaters, "Well, the prominent ones, the influential Death Eaters are typically ones that have important roles in life and so, they can't exactly be caught doing what they do."

They sat in silence for a few more hours, Ginny staring at the dusty glass of the table, the clock swinging gently at the end of its chain, unforgotten by the redhead as the ticking of the clock permeating the room.

As he watched her face drift into an expression of misery, he knew where her mind had traveled. He frantically grasped for something to make her happy and suddenly stood, grabbing her hand, "Come on, I have something to show you."

Ginny followed silently as Draco ran up the stairs and into one of the spare bedrooms.

Stepping into the room, Ginny saw an old circular mirror set atop a bureau, dark and tattered curtains hanging across the windows. The floral wallpaper of the room was peeling in a few spots, turning what she thought was something that was meant to be beautiful and happy to something worn out and hideous. In the middle sat the skeleton of a bed, the mattress missing. And to the side, was a wrought iron staircase, spiraling upwards into the ceiling.

Draco stood at the top of the stairs, looking down at Ginny, one hand lifted to gently caress the edge of the ceiling as he waited for the redhead to join him.

She slowly mounted the stairs, sliding her hands gently along the circling railing as she ascended toward the ceiling, moving closer to heaven each second. As she stepped outwards onto the roof, she saw the sun slowly sinking down below the buildings, painting the sky beautiful shades of red and gold and orange.

Glancing around, she saw Draco sitting on a bench, the only object on the flat, unoccupied rooftop, and went to join him, where they stayed until well after the stars came out to join them.

Ginny slipped into a silk black dress they had stolen off a rack in a random department store. She knew from the past week of surveillance that their mark, whose name was Abe, stopped by a corner bar at about six every evening.

It was time for Ginny to make her introduction and she planned to make quite an impression.

She adjusted the straps of her dress so that they caressed her shoulders and slipped on a pair of heels they had grabbed before she walked down the stairs to see Draco, dressed fully in black as well, but planning to do something entirely different.

When he turned to look at her, his eyebrows lifted before a smirk crawled onto his face.

Ginny smiled as well, "So I look good?"

Draco nodded and whispered, "Yes" right before he grabbed her face in his hands and forcefully pulled her lips to his.

As she pulled back from the kiss, Ginny carefully studied Draco's face, his grey eyes and straight nose and high cheekbones, before saying, "You really should do that more often."

The lights were dim as Ginny stepped in from the street into the bar, feeling Draco's eyes on her from where he sat in a dark corner, already casually sipping a beer. She strode up to the bar and casually took a seat next to her mark, Abe, and ordered a drink, tossing her red hair over one shoulder as she began to sip on her drink.

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Abe glance at her, his eyes a dark brown, almost black. She held back a smile; it was going to be too easy.

She casually glanced at Abe, knowing exactly what she would see sparkling on his arm. It had all been so thoughtfully planned out, every sentence, every word, carefully mapped.

"Is that a Rolex Deepsea?"

They had discovered Abe's passion for watches during their late nights of surveillance, of breaking into the houses of Abe's acquaintances, and even Abe's himself, from all-nighters dedicated to extensive research so that they knew Abe's schedule better than they knew their own. But it had been Ginny to spot it as his weakness, Ginny who knew exactly how to use it against him. After all, it was Ginny who could see weaknesses like other people could see the moon on a clear night.

He drank his coffee black. He had two children, both girls, but his wife had died long ago in a car crash. He visited the bar every night at six while his children ate dinner with their aunt, where he drowned his sorrows. He worked a nine to five job in a bank, twenty blocks from his house. He went to be at approximately midnight every night, after tucking his children in. And he rose again, every morning, at five to get them ready for school before heading off to his own job.

And he had a strange obsession with Rolexes. They had assumed that he was trying to, unconsciously, replace his wife with one. Not that a watch has the ability to clean the dishes and kiss the children goodnight as they drift off peacefully to sleep, but more that he needed something to love, something to take his mind off of the pain in his heart. At least, that was what they had assumed from the look on his face as he pressed his hands to the glass of the cases and saved every spare nickel he could find, much like a small child in a candy store.

Abe smiled as he looked down at the silver watch and then up at Ginny, "It is. You know your watches, I see."

Ginny smiled, crossing her legs as she turned her body towards him, "My father used to collect them. He spent the final year of his life trying to buy the Rolex Daytona."

She saw a small glimmer in his eyes as she said these words. And behind him, she could see Draco sitting in the corner, still keeping watch, always keeping watch.

Abe leaned toward her with excitement, "I've been trying to buy one, they're extremely hard to get. I had finally tracked a few down in a store here, but they were suddenly sold out."

Ginny quickly suppressed a smile and retained an indifferent expression. She and Draco were the reason Abe wasn't able to find one of the watches. They had robbed the store a few days ago, taking all of the Daytonas. Of course, the store was too proud to admit to its customers that the expensive security system they had invested in had been deceived.

Of course, they could sell these watches on the black market, but it would take days to find a customer willing to buy them. The Daytonas weren't a hot item currently; strangely enough, however, nail polish infused with rattlesnake venom sold for about three hundred dollars per bottle at the moment.

The two talked for a few more hours, about watches, about life in general. Ginny's mission for the night was to make it so that Abe wanted to see her again. And she felt confident she had completed her task as she finally slipped off of her barstool and shook hands with Abe.

"Will you meet me here tomorrow?" He asked suddenly, quickly adding, as he realized how strange this question must seem, "I really enjoyed our conversation."

Ginny thought a moment, "I don't even know your name." He hadn't mentioned it in their conversation so, no matter how many times she had secretly followed him to his house with Draco, she didn't technically know his name.

He smiled, "Abel. But you can call me Abe."

"Alright Abe, I'm Iris. And I will meet you here tomorrow night." Ginny turned and strode outside, walking down the street toward the house she and Draco shared.

Draco quickly followed Ginny onto the street, the word '_iris'_ still echoing irritatingly through his head. Honestly, he hated the name; it seemed childish. But it was the only name that worked with the story they had created. And he had to accept it.

As he looked ahead, he saw Ginny strolling down the street seven blocks ahead of him. As he watched, he noticed a dark shadow following her. A sense of dread welled up in his stomach.

Just as he was about to call out to her, the figure wrapped its arm around her and Ginny quickly attacked back, throwing her elbow into the shadow's side before grabbing a knife from somewhere beneath her dress. Ginny pushed the figure against a brick wall and held the knife threateningly to his throat before he took off in the opposite direction.

Ginny turned and continued walking, her knife still in her hand.

Draco opened his eyes to see his father looming over him. His body was cold, freezing, as he lay on the stone floor. He felt his muscles contract, involuntarily, as he felt a shock run through his body.

He was rigid, every nerve on fire, his eyes round. Everything else he had ever known, every other moment of his life, was a fantasy compared to this. This was his only reality. The only reality he had ever experienced, the only reality he would ever feel.

Everything else had been a departure from reality. A vacation.

He stared up at Lucius' cruel smirk etched on a pale face, his cold eyes boring holes into Draco.

Alarm. The only thing he felt was alarm.

And then agony.

He knew what this was, where he was. He was being tortured.

Draco only had a moment to wonder why exactly, what he had done to deserve this, before everything went black once again.

He awoke to see the early morning light sneaking through cracks in the heavy curtains as his body shook violently.

For a moment, he couldn't move couldn't think. It was as if he was relearning how his muscles worked. Slowly, he regained his ability to think and his brain moved sluggishly as he lifted a hand and examined it in the dim light.

It had all seemed so real.

He stood and shook himself. It wasn't real. This was real. An abandoned house, Ginny sleeping on a frayed couch, broken coffee mugs and ripped sheets of paper, cons and victims, the mass grave at Headquarters and the grief and anger he felt after burying those bodies, that was real.

Draco stood outside Abe's apartment, his hands in his jacket pocket as he leaned against the brownstone and waited for the man to appear. Ginny had offered to sell one of the Daytonas to Abe earlier at the bar.

As he leaned his head backwards and stared at the black sky, he heard footsteps. It was show time.

Abe was approaching his house from the opposite direction and Draco stepped forward to meet him in front of it.

As he got closer, Abe slowed down, frowning suspiciously as the lamppost behind Draco cast his face in shadow.

Abe began to open his small, dark mouth, but Draco cut him off, knowing he had limited time before the man began to stop listening.

"Abe, my name is Donovan. And you're being conned."

Draco winced at Abe's reaction. It was the worst he could have expected really, he thought as Abe ordered him away from his house.

But Draco refused to move, "She's a pretty little redhead, beautiful, really. She met you in a place you visit every single night. She acted as if it were chance. She remarked upon something you were wearing, something you always have with you. And tonight, she offered to give you something you have been looking for desperately, something you've been chasing. But it comes at a price, and an unusually high price. Am I right?"

Abe turned around to face Draco, his eyes narrow, before he said, "You better come inside" and walked up his stairs to unlock the door.

Draco sat on Abe's couch as the older man walked upstairs to tuck in his two children. After a few minutes, he walked back downstairs, his face looking tired.

Abe sat across from him in a large chair, a coffee table separating them, much like the one in the abandoned house Draco and Ginny were currently inhabiting.

"So you're telling me that I'm being conned?"

"Yes."

"And what evidence do you have to support this?" Draco smiled at the comment; Abe was smart.

"I've been chasing her for a few years, I've watched her do this dozens of times. She's not only a conman, but also a thief. She finds out what material possession her victims want most and she steals it, all of it. That way, her victims have no choice but to accept her offer when she says she can give this item to them. However, the prices are ridiculously inflated. And, after she does this, she comes back a few days later with a story saying that she needs to put the rest of her money or the items she is selling somewhere safe. That safe place, however, happens to be where you keep your money. After you let her into your bank vault, she'll clean you out."

Abe frowned, worry lines creasing his forehead, "Are you sure this is the same girl?"

Draco leaned forward on his elbows as if he was desperate to hear the answer to his next question, "She calls herself Iris, doesn't she?"

Abe nodded and Draco continued, leaning back comfortably and examining something invisible on his hand, "It's a strange name, don't you think?"

His voice faltered as he answered, "Well… yes."

Draco smiled broadly, "Irises are the flowers of wisdom." He leaned forward again, this time closer to Abe; "She's telling you that if you aren't wise enough to avoid her, you have brought this on yourself. Her name also refers to a notorious sixteenth century thief who used to steal the worldly possessions of the rich while they slept. She would leave a bouquet of irises in a jar on the bedside table."

"So what should I do?"

Draco was silent for a moment as he pretended to ponder various courses of action before he spoke, "We don't have enough evidence to send her to jail currently. You're going to have to let her sell you whatever she has promised and then, when she returns a few days later, you will give her access to your safety deposit box. I'll be watching and I'll make the arrest afterwards."

As Draco grabbed his jacket from the coat rack and opened the door, he turned back to see Abe sitting alone in his living room.

"And Abe," Draco said, his voice low, "Don't tell anyone about this."

He then slammed the door shut and disappeared into the night.

They sat on the roof once again as the sun sank below the horizon. Ginny was slowly fiddling with her necklace as Draco lay across the bench, staring at the sky.

Ginny slowly opened the locket once again, staring at the picture of the Order inside as all of the members, even those who were now gone, waved back at her. As she stared at it, she noticed a corner of the picture was peeling off.

Narrowing her eyes, Ginny slowly pulled the picture back so that it came down like a trapdoor. She gasped and her eyes widened at what she saw.

Draco sat up abruptly, "What?"

"Look." She held up the watch so he could see the inside, where what appeared to be a map lay, with small icons moving around it.

"It's a map… there are indicators pointing to where we are. And over in the south corner, I think those are Death Eaters."

"How could they be in the same town as us?" Ginny asked, a slight panic rising in the back of her throat.

"Death Eaters are everywhere. They're impossible to escape. The best we can do is try to blend in."

They were both on edge as Ginny sold the watch to Abe, smiling as he handed over the money. She had left the necklace with Draco and as she rounded the corner, Abe's money tucked safely in a small purse, she saw him standing nervously, watching the little green and red icons move around the streets.

Ginny tugged the necklace from Draco and draped it back around her neck, it had felt wrong without it, and reopened the clock, peeling back the picture as they watched the tiny, glowing dark marks float around above the map.

Three days floated slowly by as they slept. Draco rose only for coffee and to watch Abe at the bar, the only place where, he had said, Iris would show up again. Ginny kept watch over the Order and Death Eaters alike, repeatedly reading the names on her necklace, looking for ones newly charred, and keeping watch on the map, seeking any new icons. They had deduced that the watch located the dark magic infused in the tattoos on the arms of the bearers. The only draw back, really, was that the symbols weren't labeled with names.

They had no idea if they were surrounded by ex-Death Eaters or Voldemort himself.

On the third evening, Ginny decided that Iris needed to go out one last time. It was time for the grand finale.

Everything fell perfectly into place as Ginny quietly pleaded with Abe to allow him access to his safety deposit box.

Abe stood from where he sat at the bar and pulled out the keys to the bank, which, of course, he worked at, and began to head to the door.

Ginny then headed off in the opposite direction, intending to meet them there, because she needed to bring the rest of the watches to him.

And Draco slowly followed Abe, slinking from shadow to shadow.

Ginny pushed the heavy door of the bank silently open, her heels echoing on the marble floor as she strode into the main building, squinting her eyes in the dark at the high ceilings and tall, wooden teller cubicles, where bank officials could look down upon common people asking for a simple loan.

As she stood in the center of the tall room, an old-fashioned suitcase in her hand, she heard a word reverberate off the walls.

"Iris."

Turning on her bright smile, Ginny looked toward where Abe sat in the dark bank, his face shrouded in shadow.

"Abe, thank you so much–" She began her sentence, but Abe didn't allow her to finish.

"No, Iris. I've known what you planned all along."

"Excuse me?" Ginny asked, frowning.

"Officer Donovan came to me a few days ago, telling me exactly who you are. The flower of wisdom, really?" He asked rhetorically, making fun of the name she had picked for herself. Draco stepped out from behind Donovan and placed himself next to the both of them, so that they formed a triangle with their bodies.

Ginny put the suitcase on the ground before beginning to turn toward the large front doors of the bank.

She had moved only two steps before she felt a large hand come down on her arm and stop her.

"There's no use in going out there, Iris. Donovan has the entire building surrounded."

Unbeknownst to the two, Draco had already slipped away to the back of the bank.

Ginny's eyes widened slightly before she stared down at her wrists and saw the silver bracelets she had donned precisely for this occasion, "I'll give you these if you let me go, your girls would like them, I bet. Just let me go."

Abe sneered, "Not a chance, Iris. Donovan says he's been hunting you for years. He's giving me a hefty reward for this."

"How much? I could double it, triple it if you want." Ginny said, trying to bribe her way out.

Abe hesitated and Ginny smiled before he said, "No."

"You could send your girls to a nice school. What were their names? Phoebe and Jane, I'm sure they'd appreciate that."

Just as Ginny saw Abe's resolve break, Draco returned, "Stop, Iris. He's not going to give in to your bribery."

The suitcase in one hand, Draco grabbed Ginny by the other and hauled her out of the entrance to the bank, Abe following in their trail.

As soon as they exited the bank, Abe saw that there were no waiting officers with their guns pointed, no cruisers with flashing lights. The street was dark, streetlights reflecting off of surfaces damp with earlier rain.

Knowing they only had seconds, Draco grabbed Ginny's hand and smiled at her before they ran off into the dark, leaving Donovan to find ten thousand missing from his vault, replaced with five Rolex Daytona watches.

As they mounted the stairs to their abandoned house still clutching hands, their laughter bounced off the surrounding houses. Just as they pushed open the door, light began to pour from the locket around Ginny's neck.

She quickly took it off, as if afraid it was on fire, and ripped it open to see tiny pinpricks of light popping up in different areas of the city.

As she showed it to Draco, he ran up the stairs and to the roof.

Looking out across the skyline, they saw the Dark Mark spotting the night sky. Staring back down at the watch, Draco saw that for every Dark Mark in the sky, there was a small pinprick of light on the map.

"Fuck." Draco said.

"What?"

"They've been following us."

Ginny looked down at the map; every single place they had been in the past week had a pinprick of light shining from it. The bank, the bar, the watch store, the place they had stolen their clothes from, the alley they had awoken in, the crate they had stolen food from, a few of the abandoned houses they had visited, even Abe's house, had a dark mark floating in the dark sky above it.

The green icons began to move and, without looking, Ginny knew where they were headed.

"They're coming after us."

"I know," Draco snarled, "Let them. I'm tired of being hunted by them; I'm tired of running. We're finished with running. From this moment forward, we are doing what we were meant to do, what we were supposed to be doing from the beginning; we're hunting them again."

Finito, for now!

Sorry it took so long, hope you enjoyed it. Review!

Thanks to all who reviewed last chapter.

Katy


	25. Destruction

Once again, sorry for the wait, but the lack of reviews of Chapter 24 was disconcerting to say the least. I've tried to make this chapter perfect.

Also, if you've read **my Beautiful series**, not many of you have, I have finished the final part of the trilogy, but am unsure as to if I want to post it. If you ask, I just might send it to you and get your opinion on it.

The song is the work of 30 Seconds to Mars, not mine. Although repetitive, it's excellent and I suggest listening to it.

JKR owns all Harry Potter characters and I own the ones I created.

-Katy

_Grab your gun_

_Time to go to Hell_

_I'm no hero_

_Guilty as charged_

_Search and Destroy_

_Found my faith_

_Livin' in sin_

_I'm no Jesus_

_But neither are you my friend_

_I'm a whore_

_A birth of broken dreams_

_The simple answer_

_Is never what it seems_

_A million little pieces_

_We've broken into_

_A million little pieces_

_I've stolen from you_

_Search and destroy_

_Search and destroy_

_Search and destroy_

_Search and destroy_

_Sold my soul_

_Heaven into Hell_

_Sick as my secrets_

_But never going to tell_

_I'm to blame_

_Burden of my dreams_

_The curse of faith_

_Is a blessing I believe_

_I believe_

_I believe_

_I believe_

_I believe_

_Oh, I believe_

_I believe_

_Search and destroy_

_Search and destroy_

_Search and destroy_

_Search and destroy_

_Search and destroy_

_Let go_

_Let go_

_Let me go_

_Let me go_

_Let go_

_Let go_

_Let me go_

_Search and destroy_

_A million little pieces_

_A million little pieces_

_A million little pieces _

_A million little pieces_

_A million little pieces_

_A million little pieces _

_A million little pieces_

_Stolen from you_

_Search and destroy_

_Search and destroy_

_Search and destroy_

_Search and destroy_

_A million little pieces_

_A million little pieces_

_To start_

_-30 Seconds to Mars, Search and Destroy_

**XXV**

Chapter Twenty-Five: Destruction

They just weren't city people, Ginny thought with a smirk, as she and Draco slowly relaxed the deeper they wandered into the think, inky shadows of the towering forest, the knots in their necks and shoulders slowly untwisting as they became more and more hidden with each footstep.

Maybe one day, she thought as she reached over and grabbed Draco's hand, they would return to the city they were currently fleeing, but not for a long time. Not until the world was safe, if it ever was.

There was a very big chance that their entire mission would be futile; and they were both acutely aware of this.

They had fought their way out of the townhouse, leaving a trail of masked bodies and charred remains amongst broken dishes and torn drapery as they ran from the city.

They both stopped about five miles deep into the forest, slowing to a light jog until they fully stopped, throwing down their bags and immediately creating wards around their campsite, each taking turns holding their hands in the air and revolving slowly in a circle as sparks glowed from their wands.

As soon as the campsite was secure, Draco began rummaging through the bag as Ginny stared at the secret map in her locket, pinpoints of light illuminating her face in the darkness.

Finally, he pulled out a small lamp, lighting it with a few matches, before reaching back into the bag, his hand reemerging with two old apples which they had salvaged from the townhouse.

Ginny glanced over at Draco, dragging her eyes forcefully away from the mysterious locket. As she saw what sat in his palms, her stomach growled.

Dinnertime.

As her teeth slowly sunk into the supple flesh of the apple, juice rising into her mouth to greet her tongue, her mind wandered into the future once again. Would they be able to live?

She hadn't given it much thought until this moment; she and Draco had hardly had any time to think since escaping the massacre. They'd spent the past few weeks running through forests as their arms scratched against sharp branches, plotting their next move as they tossed another piece of paper onto the growing pile of discarded ideas, hiding in shelters only to be found once again, and feeling only constant hunger and fear.

The last time she had had a full meal, one that hadn't consisted of merely an apple or food snatched from a garbage can in the dead of night, had been at Snape's house, a lifetime ago.

The last time she had not lived in fear was before the night of the massacre; in fact, she had spent much of the time at the Headquarters with Draco trying to get over the same sense of dread and fear she felt constantly now. And yet, it was different.

Now, she knew she could protect herself. Now her fear was for others, not herself.

And it had been forever since she had been able to truly sit down and think. All of her time had been so consumed by attempts of surviving, by hiding, by fighting, by running, she hadn't had any time to think.

Now, as she and Draco sat down across from one another, the gas lamp separating them, her mind wandered as she chewed slowly.

Would they live?

No, she decided, they wouldn't live for a long time, not until the fighting and running was over. What they were doing wasn't living, it was surviving. Their only hope to actually live was to survive the war. And, admittedly, she wasn't sure how good the odds were for them.

They had defeated nearly every Death Eater sent their way. They were unstoppable, merciless. And yet, would it be enough to defeat smirking Lucius? The cruel, laughing Bellatrix? Red-eyed Voldemort himself?

She wasn't so sure. They could only try.

She suddenly felt a longing to feel her one of her brother's words surface onto her arm, to read the comforting words that they were also alive. But none appeared, they couldn't.

It was simply too much of a risk. The only reason they would send a message was if they were about to be captured.

She frowned slightly before looking across the lamplight at Draco, his blond hair a soft silver color matching the moon.

"Do you think my brothers are safe?" She asked, her voice small.

Draco frowned slightly, having been knocked out of his own reverie by her words; he spoke softly, considering his response, "Yes, I believe that they can take care of themselves. They were all magnificent wizards, some of the best I had ever met, even before I trained them. Now, they know nearly a thousand ways to disarm and kill an opponent magically, not to mention with weapons and their own hands. They know they are being tracked magically; they are wary and cautious. And they're Weasley's. They are members of one of the biggest wizarding families in the world. There's a reason your family is so large: you guys don't die off very easily."

Ginny laughed quietly at his last words, they were fairly true. Her family had lived through the First Wizarding War with minimal loss of life and, so far, she had only lost one cousin in this one.

"However," Draco continued, "Voldemort always sends more Death Eaters when he knows your family is involved. He pretends that your family is just a worthless clan of blood traitors who he couldn't care less about but, truthfully, your family is one of the only ones with enough power behind it to take him down singlehandedly. Why do you think he tried to make Percy cross sides? Lucius said once that the Dark Lord was extremely unhappy when he learned Harry had befriended your family. It isn't because he wanted to turn Harry to the dark side; he's always wanted to kill Potter. He didn't want Harry to have friends as powerful as your family. So, yes, I think your family is perfectly safe. They can take care of themselves."

"So Voldemort is purposefully targeting my family?" Ginny asked quietly.

Draco felt a sense of dread in his stomach. He suddenly remembered the secret he hadn't told Ginny, that she had been targeted on purpose, her rape hadn't been a coincidence. His voice was uneasy when he spoke, "Yes. About that, Ginny…"

Ginny's face snapped upwards at his tone and loss of words. He was Draco Malfoy, his words never unsure, his tone always fearless, "What? What aren't you telling me?"

How'd she know he wasn't telling her something? He wondered to himself, confused. He breathed in deeply, deciding to take the plunge, "I didn't tell you because I didn't think you needed any more fear in your life. When we were fighting on our first Death Eater raid, the witch I was fighting told me something. I have no idea how she found it out, but your rape wasn't on accident. I suppose Death Eaters had been ordered to do that if they ever spotted you. They wanted to weaken your family."

He watched, his heart breaking, as he saw Ginny's face close off, her eyes turning to ice. "You thought I didn't have a right to know this?"

He felt a sudden spike of icy panic, something he didn't feel often, as he scrambled for words, "Ginny – it's not that. I was trying to protect you!"

Her brows knit together into a scowl and Draco swallowed past a lump in his throat, his palms getting clammy. She did not like that answer. At all.

Ginny felt anger boiling up inside her body, pushing for release. She let him have it. "I do not need your help, Draco. I can protect myself. I've destroyed Death Eaters, I've beat you in fights. I have handled myself before and I can handle myself now. You really think I can't handle the truth?" She took a deep breath, steadying her voice as she went in for the kill, her voice laced with poison, her eyes narrowing in on her target. "You're a misogynist. Just like your father."

Draco was silent, his jaw clenched in anger, his fists balled. Ginny stood up suddenly, violently snatching her bag off of the ground and storming to the opposite side of the invisible circle they were enclosed in, as far away from him as possible.

**XXV**

Draco's eyes slowly opened, focusing on the dark stone ceiling hanging threateningly above his head, as if silently swearing to suddenly fall down and crush him to death.

He stared at the ceiling for a moment longer, his mind slowly churning, trying to make sense of what he was seeing as feeling slowly returned to his body.

He turned his head gingerly, his body stiff and sore from abuse and lack of use. As he looked, the stone floor feeling cool against his back, he saw he was in a cell, the bars casting slender shadows across his face.

He tried to sit up, but was pulled back down by the shackles attached to his wrists. As he pulled on them, pain sparked through his wrists.

Looking closer, he saw the skin under the cuffs was raw; he'd been in the cell for a while.

Footsteps echoed through the hall, bouncing off of the cold, stonewalls to greet his ears. His body became momentarily paralyzed; he would recognize the sinister sound of those footsteps anywhere.

"Good morning, Draco," Lucius formally, yet with a hint of cheeriness, greeted him as if he was seated across the breakfast table, rather than shackled to the floor of a dungeon.

"Why am I here?" Draco snarled, demanding answers.

Lucius frowned slightly, disapprovingly, before his face settled back into its usual expression of superiority and indifference. He gave an exasperated sigh, "I really hate repeating this story."

"What do you mean? Who have you been talking to?" Draco asked, his voice harsh.

"Really, Draco, you're in no position to be making demands." His father reminded him, indicating to the shackles with a tap of his cane. "I haven't been talking to anyone, Draco. Every time you pass out, you wake up once more confused as to how you got here. I think you may be suffering from amnesia. Which, frankly, makes you a bit useless." Lucius said the last part with another small frown, as if truly sorry his son was suffering from memory loss.

Who knows, thought Draco, maybe he was truly sorry; Lucius was always a difficult character to predict. He was always unsure when Lucius' compassionate side would suddenly surface.

"But, despite the fact that you can't remember how you got here, I do think you can remember the plans you made with the Order. And I'm going to make you tell me about them." Then, Draco felt a bolt of pain fly through his body, leaving him rigid and gasping for air, for relief.

He wasn't ready to give his father what he wanted, but he had to ask, "What plans do you want to know about, Lucius?"

Lucius laughed cruelly, "What plans?" He asked incredulously, "The plans you made before running away, Draco. You don't expect me to believe that you simply ran away without allying yourself with the Order, do you?"

Again, Draco felt pain, this time blacking out momentarily before regaining consciousness. His father was still speaking.

"And why would the Order simply accept you with open arms? You're one of their biggest enemies. So, Draco, what I want to know is what did you tell them?" Lucius was hissing, his face flushed red as he became more infuriated with every word.

Draco was confused, his groggy mind still working to decipher his father's ramblings. "I didn't offer them anything."

This time, the pain was so great that a scream ripped from his lungs, tearing open his mouth, and shattering the cold, silent air of the dungeon.

Lucius smirked, pushing up his sleeves. Draco felt a sense of dread; his father only pushed up his sleeves when he was about to perform extraordinarily powerful curses.

"Are you sure you don't know, Draco?" His father's voice was soft, a fatherly gentleness cloaking the malice and venom underneath as he leaned over and pushed back his sons bangs from his sweat-soaked forehead.

He knew the pain was about to come; he would have lied if he had had any idea what his father was talking about. But he didn't. All he could do was slowly shake his head and brace himself before the pain rocked through his entire body, shaking him to the core.

For a few moments, every nerve of his body was lit on fire, his head beginning to throb as sweat poured down his back from the intensity of it. The pain was indescribable, something not naturally felt by humans, a pain not naturally occurring in the world.

This kind of pain didn't exist, Draco's mind screamed to him as his eyes squeezed tight, his body writhing as it tried to find a way to escape the pain soaring through it.

He laid still, his heart slamming against his chest as he melted into the stone floor, a pool of sweat mixed with blood accumulating under him. As his eyes drooped closed, he heard his father whisper to someone, "It's really too bad we killed the Weasley girl."

At those words, Draco's heart leapt in his throat before he saw, through his eyelashes, his father raise his wand and all feeling disappeared from his world as he floated in a desensitized state, all senses dulled.

He continued to float, his mind wandering, his body completely numb, he couldn't see, couldn't hear, couldn't feel. He couldn't taste or smell anything.

And then, reality hit. His father had cursed him. He was undergoing sensory deprivation.

Hate swelled within his stomach. Sensory deprivation was a torture technique his father had used often on prisoners of war. After a few days of feeling absolutely nothing, curses felt about a thousand times stronger. The pain was enough to break the strongest of men; it was enough to make anyone wish for death.

Draco had been awoken countless times from his sleep in the middle of the night to the screams of prisoners undergoing this cruel shock of torture.

He had once talked to a man who had survived the technique. He had explained, stuttering, cringing against a stonewall, that it had felt as if his body had erupted.

Erupted. That was the closest the man had gotten to explaining it, before he had drawn into himself, mumbling.

The torture method often made survivors succumb to the sweet bliss of insanity.

Draco's mind slowly faded and he opened his eyes to see the sun shining on his face.

**XXV**

He sat up, examining his wrists where he thought he had once been shackled, and looked around the clearing for Ginny.

Shielding one of his eyes with a hand and pushing back a few strands of hair as he did so, he glanced around the circle to see her looking back at him.

She smiled slightly, a sheepish smile, and crossed the clearing to sit beside him.

She breathed slowly inwards before letting it out in a puff, her words following quickly, as if at any moment her embarrassed mouth could stop saying them, "I'm sorry. I realize now that you were only trying to protect me." Looking away, she was silent before she looked at him and smirked, "And, we need to stick together because, let's face it, you'd get your ass kicked without me."

Draco laughed softly before smiling at her, "Apology accepted, Weasley."

He kissed her lightly on her forehead before standing and stretching. "No Death Eaters came by last night to check on our magic usage." He mused, "That's unusual, the last time we set up wards they surrounded us for twenty minutes."

Ginny's eyebrows knitted together and she spoke slowly, confusedly, "They came by, Draco. They were here for about an hour. You were sleeping like the dead. I tried to shake you awake but you wouldn't move. I thought you actually _were_ dead for a moment. You're always awoken so easily."

Draco frowned slightly and shook his head; he decided not to remain on this minor mystery in his tangled web of a life. He stood, sighing slightly, and shook his hurting joints out after a long night of sleeping on the ground.

He quickly searched one of the bags, pulling out a small pan, two eggs he had snatched while they were in town, and a few matches from its dark depths. He expertly lit the matches, gathering a small pile of kindling, and held the pan steadily over it.

Serving Ginny an egg, which she ate with her hands because, unfortunately, in his mad rush to find useful things, he had forgotten silverware, he told her that she needed to check her map for any close by Death Eaters.

Swallowing a mouthful of eggs, Ginny posed with one handful of egg halfway toward her mouth as she noted, "You seem almost as if you're hoping they're near us."

Draco smirked, "Well, I am. We're supposed to be hunting, aren't we? And we need to find some supplies."

Ginny nodded, shoving the last handful of eggs into her mouth and wiping her greasy hands on her jeans before grabbing the locket at her neck and opening it carefully, peeling back the picture of the Order to reveal the map hidden beneath.

Examining it, Ginny noted that there were four death eaters, each within a mile radius of them, adding, "They're probably the ones who were sent to hunt us last night."

"Mhm" Draco said absently, reaching over to wipe a piece of egg off of Ginny's chin and smiling.

**XXV**

They floated silently beneath the trees, the towering giants above casting dark, imposing shadows over the two of them. Their eyes were alert, every sense afire.

It was a new sensation, or maybe one she hadn't felt in a long time. She didn't know whether she'd never felt it or whether it had merely always been there, in the back of her mind, this ability to feel and see everything around her.

As she and Draco drifted through the soft, cold underbelly of the forest, she felt as if she could sense anything. Her eyes could see things directly behind her, her nose smelled odors she had never picked up before, her ears picked up minute sounds muted to anyone else.

She had finally fallen into Draco's range, she finally knew how he felt, how he sensed everything.

She didn't know how, but it had suddenly come to her, after months of patience and practice, she had finally aligned herself with the world.

He made it look easy, she decided as he slid ahead of her, a knife gripped in his left hand, the small painted moon glinting silver in the sunlight, another strapped somewhere beneath his clothes. He made this connection, this ability to simply feel and detect as if it were merely practice.

It was really just being on an entirely different level than everyone else.

They padded through the forest until they parted ways suddenly, nodding to one another with unspoken words.

Tightening her grip on one of her blades, she kneeled down to grab another from her boot before she examined the map once more.

After examining the location of her target, she set off at a run, moving in a slight arc through the forest. As she ran, her pulse and heart sped up as the adrenaline and thrill of a potential fight sang a sweet song of victory through her veins. Trees reached out their spindly fingers to snatch at her coat as she flew by, tearing at the thick corduroy jacket she wore, the greenery casting a bright green tinge to her world under the early morning sun.

Her breath came out in puffs, floating up to greet her brown eyes. She couldn't help wondering to herself when it had become so cold. Then again, she had no idea what the date was.

Her parents had thought of putting everything in the tiny locket that bounced against her chest, everything but the day and month. She smiled to herself; maybe she just hadn't found it yet.

Twenty minutes into her run, Ginny was nearing her target. She slowed to a stop and bent down, putting both of her knives back in her boots.

She walked a little while longer, her heart rate slowing as she looked around silently, examining the world she found herself in.

The sound of water reached her ears; the soft lapping of miniscule waves gently hitting rocks. The trees above her head curled, their branches intertwining to form a roof above her head.

And then suddenly, the giant, ever-present trees opened up into a clearing of tall grasses topped with lavender surrounding a small pool.

She stepped forward, leaving the comfort and shelter of the trees behind and sat herself on a small rock, curling her knees beneath her chin as she stared into the glassy, reflective surface of the small pond.

It didn't take long. She soon felt the cool edge of a knife at her neck.

Her pulse sped up to a rapid pace as she stood slowly and turned under the will of the hand gripping her shoulder.

The witch before her smiled wickedly when she recognized Ginny's face, "Well, what do we have here?"

Her voice was a purr as she contemplated exactly what she would do with her new captive.

She whispered into Ginny's ear, "What's your name, pretty thing?"

Ginny waited a few moments to respond, "Ruth."

The girl laughed harshly in response, "Hand over your wand!" Her voice cracked through the air, clashing violently with the gentle purr Ginny had heard moments before.

"I– I don't have it." Ginny said, unconvincingly, as she glanced down at the wood handle sticking out of her jacket pocket.

The girl, she was a girl around Ginny's age, snatched the wand out of Ginny's pocket, her platinum blonde hair whipping to reveal black streaks underneath.

"Oh… there it is." Ginny added lamely.

The girl smirked, her royal blue eyes flashing as if to question whether Ginny was an idiot.

She jerked Ginny around by her hair, returning the sharp blade once again to her soft throat, and forced her to walk.

**XXV**

They reached the Death Eater camp with minimal struggling on Ginny's part, except for the occasional quick movement, to see if her captor still had a good grip on her red hair.

When they reached the camp, all was quiet. Several tents were pitched, pots and pans were out, fires burning beneath them. Smoke rose into the air.

The blonde girl snorted before yelling harshly, "Wake up, you useless bastards! I caught something interesting!"

Nothing moved in the camp.

"I said wake up, goddammit!" She started screeching, "I caught the Weasley girl!"

"Oh, did you now?" A voice came from behind her.

Ginny smirked as the girl whirled around, bringing Ginny with her.

The redhead felt the blade at her neck tighten against her skin; blood began to drip slowly down her neck as the girl stared up in fear, and probably a tinge of awe as well, at Draco.

Ginny made her move, stabbing the girl in the side with her elbow before she turned rapidly, pushing down the blonde's arms with one arm while she punched her in the nose with her fist.

As the blonde crumpled to the ground, her platinum hair spreading behind her head like an irony-filled halo, Ginny turned to face her partner.

"No trouble here?" She asked, pointing toward the deserted camp.

Draco was leaning against a nearby tree, absentmindedly playing with one of his knives, "None at all. All three of her team members are dead. I hid their bodies in the trees." He said, pointing upwards. "It took you long enough" he added, "I sat up there for about an hour."

Ginny snorted, "I was busy being captured. We need to talk about why I'm always the damsel in distress. But first, what are we going to do about her?" Ginny pointed to the blonde, who was still on the ground, clutching her face as blood poured through the spaces between her fingers.

"I have a special job for her." Draco replied

Ginny neared the blonde again, taking all of the weapons from her, including Ginny's own wand, before she pointed one of her knives at her and mimicked the blonde's soft purr, "What's your name, pretty thing?"

"Ruth." She spat, blood landing on one of Ginny's boots.

"Alright, Ruth–" Draco began

"Her name isn't Ruth, Draco. That's the name I gave her when she captured me. She's lying to us."

Draco immediately realized that this wasn't going to work. He became angry quickly, modeling after his father. If anyone could scare people, it was Lucius. "Do you know who I am?" He demanded, his voice sharp as red spread through his face, a vein popping out in his forehead.

She nodded her head, "D–Draco." His name came out as a whisper, as if she feared saying it.

He quickly changed modes and smirked, "Then you should know exactly what I'm capable of. Let's try this one more time: What's your name?"

"Aurora." She said quietly, her royal blue eyes were wide.

**XXV**

They stood in the empty clearing, Ginny stuffing the last of the stolen goods from the Death Eater camp into her bag as Draco untied Aurora from a nearby tree.

"Here's the deal, Aurora" He began, his voice low and soft, "You will apparate to Malfoy Manor. You will insist to see Lucius Malfoy. And when you see him, you will deliver this message: tell him that Draco and Ginny are hunting for Death Eaters. Tell him that we will destroy any number of his Death Eaters until he calls off the hunt for Ginny. Remind him that he knows what I can do. And tell him that I trained Ginny. Tell him that, unless he wants to lose whoever he sends after us, he will call off the hunt for Ginny."

Aurora stood silent, her slender, athletic body filled with tension.

"Did you get that, Aurora?" Draco asked.

She nodded and repeated it all back to him.

He smiled, "Great. Now, tell that to Lucius _first_. He will kill you if he finds out you told anyone else."

Draco reached his hand out and took Aurora's wand from Ginny. "And one last thing, Aurora, tell Lucius to watch his back."

Draco handed her the wand and the platinum blonde disappeared, heading off to her death, but not before her hateful blue gaze met both Ginny and Draco's eyes.

**XXV**

They took off running just as she disappeared. They would only have a certain amount of time before Death Eaters swarmed the area. They needed to find a safe place to hide. Quickly.

It seemed strangely contradictory, Ginny mused as she darted quickly through the woods, her long red hair whipping behind her. It was so contradictory to tell Lucius that they wouldn't hide anymore. They knew he would respond by sending more Death Eaters to their location. They had no choice but to run and hide, which was exactly what they had just told him they weren't doing.

What were they doing, really? Draco had something up his sleeve; Ginny knew it. He just hadn't shared his plans with her.

So, she would wait.

Suddenly, Draco grabbed Ginny's wrist, snapping her toward a large oak tree and pushing her toward it.

He didn't have to say it, she knew what he wanted: _Climb._

She quickly pushed herself up the tree, gripping the hard, unforgiving bark with her hands, wincing in discomfort as splinters found their way beneath her nails and other larger parts bit into her palms.

She reached toward a large branch, pushing herself upward with her feet, plopping herself down on a branch and turning to see Draco perched to her left.

They waited.

She sighed silently, another waiting game. It seemed that they spent half their time waiting, half their time running these days.

Her mind wandered to one of her favorite topics, a topic that she knew she could find endless puzzlement out of: death. She had often spent moments allowing her mind to run in circles, chasing that elusive answer to the always-prevalent question– What happens after? She had never found an answer; rather it had just terrified her.

But she had always found some sort of comfort within the deep abyss in which her mind would wander. As she was lying awake in the rooms of the Headquarters, her eyes burning from lack of sleep caused by the incessant and terrifying nightmares that plagued her sleep, her mind would often wander to the morbid topic.

In a way, it was always a tad bit comforting, although scary at the same time. If there is merely nothing after death, then why shouldn't she spend her life doing whatever the fuck she wanted? But if there was a god, shouldn't she do the best for humanity she could?

She had to admit, she found the idea of complete nothingness easier to swallow than an eternal existence, but even the idea of an empty, feeling-less void about as hard to believe.

In the end, though, she supposed it had given her some sort of consolation, as she stared up at the white, paneled ceiling of her room, sleep attempting to wrench her eyelids closed.

It was nice to know that there were things she couldn't imagine, things she could never imagine experiencing.

She hadn't thought about what comes after death for a while. She smiled faintly at the irony; the time she didn't think about death was the exact time in which she was in the most danger of meeting it prematurely.

Her mind snapped back to reality just as a twig snapped somewhere below in the forest. She gripped the tree branch she knelt on, drawing a knife out of her boot.

Ready to pounce.

They came quickly, weaving steadily through the woods, their untrained feet interrupting the silence that the forest was typically enveloped in.

As the hooded figures neared, pushing past low-hanging branches with brushes of their hands, Ginny heard a cold, calculating voice.

"It seems as though my son has vanished. No matter. He should be more willing to give up after he gets a little sleep."

With a quick pop, Lucius vanished in a swirl of smoke and black robes, apparating back to Malfoy Manor, Ginny assumed.

Not having time to ponder upon what his father's cryptic words meant, Draco exchanged a quick look with Ginny before they both jumped out of the tree, dropping silently on an enemy.

Ginny quickly dispatched the Death Eater she had landed on with a calculated stab to the heart. She bent slightly from her upright position on his body, a hand sliding forward and a foot backward to steady herself as her right hand flew upwards, the dagger gleaming brutishly before it sank into the robed chest with one fluid movement.

She didn't have time to search for Draco, only time for a fleeting wish that she had pulled up her hair before she turned to face her next two attackers. She smiled slightly as she realized she hadn't actually _seen_ them approaching; her Draco senses were still intact.

She felt one within two feet behind her and struck out with her foot, landing a kick to his chest before she quickly twisted around, catching the man before he fell, and fluidly dispatched him by slicing through his throat.

Dropping the body, she turned to face her other opponent, who had only had time to move forward from his previous position about twenty feet away. Ginny took a running leap at the man, serving him a kick to the face, which knocked him to the ground.

As he slumped to the ground, Ginny skidded to a halt next to him and quickly plunged her blade into his heart. She turned her back to him before the light faded from his eyes.

Ginny looked around the area, watching Draco fight with two separate Death Eaters at the same time. As he turned to kill one with a fluid stab to the throat, the second Death Eater raised his blade to Draco's back.

With a smirk, the Death Eater drove the dagger toward the unprotected skin of Draco's neck. As his dagger fell through the air with the gifts of gravity and muscle propelling it, it met an obstacle with a sharp clang and fell to the ground.

Ginny smirked, having just saved Draco from a possibly fatal blow, and thrust her dagger upward, impaling the Death Eater through the soft spot behind his chin.

He fell to the ground, dead from a direct blow to his brain.

Ginny turned from him, her face expressionless, her heart devoid of any sympathy for the four people she had just expertly and mercilessly executed, and looked at Draco.

He lifted one side of his face into a sort of half smile, his eyes slightly sad as he looked at Ginny, at what he had created. His light blond hair was mussed and matted with a rust-colored liquid, blood splatters covering his t-shirt and jeans, which were both ripped in places, and each of his hands gripped a dagger.

Ginny concentrated her brown eyes on the daggers he held, one of them inlaid with a golden sun, the other with a silver moon, as Draco examined her.

She was covered in blood. Her clothes ripped at the elbows and knees from where she had landed on them or simply moved too quickly for the fabric to withstand. Her hair was tangled, parts sticking to her face with the glue of sweat and blood. Her fingernails were dirty, the dagger she held slick with blood. And yet, she was untouched. None of the blood was hers, all of the other damage was self-inflicted.

He had always thought she was a force to be reckoned with, but none of these Death Eaters had even seen their deaths coming. She had moved at lightning speed with precision as accurate as a surgeon's scalpel.

_She might be better than you_, a small voice in the back of his head smoke softly. He pushed that thought down, he may have taught Ginny everything he knew, but she hadn't had the chance to apply all of her knowledge, as he had. She wasn't that good. Yet.

She was, however, good enough to take into any battle now, Draco thought to himself.

He felt a mix of dread, pride, and fear in his heart. He dreaded having her fight Death Eaters so viciously; she could meet her match, couldn't she? And yet, he was proud at her accomplishments. If anyone deserved to be able to violently protect themselves, it was her. And he had taught her everything she knew; it was as if he was watching a student graduate. But he was still fearful of how he had changed her. Was it possible that he had fundamentally changed her personality as well?

Draco shook his head at his fears; if battle prowess was connected with personality traits, then he was fucked.

Sounds from the woods interrupted his thoughts. He listened carefully: footsteps.

He motioned to Ginny and they both climbed into a tree, waiting for an army to enter the clearing and see the evidence of a massacre.

Instead, a woman walked into the clearing.

He heard a sharp intake of breath that she made as her eyes landed on the bodies lying in the shade of the trees. The first thing he noticed about her was that she wore a Death Eater cloak; the second was that her nails were painted a soft, pastel green and a small tattoo the pattern of a full moon was inked into the skin of her left wrist, below the Dark Mark.

Draco began to examine the woman's rumpled look as Ginny slipped quietly from the tree, sneaking behind the woman and snaking her arm around her neck.

The woman stiffened in surprise at the cold touch of the blade, her hand flying to her throat as if she had to feel the cold knife with her hands to make sure it was real. As she did, Draco saw a small flash of red.

As Ginny rested her blade against the soft skin of the woman's throat, Draco tensed up, "Ginny, wait."

The redhead turned swiftly, forcing the other woman, whose hair was a dark brown, around with her. "What?"

Draco dropped from the tree and padded toward them, his knife held gently between two fingers, ready to fly into life at a moment's notice.

"Gin, look at her tattoos." It seemed to him as if everyone was wearing their heart, or allegiance, on their sleeves these days, sewn by a permanent, magical needle and thread.

Draco grabbed one of the woman's arms, tugging her sleeve over her elbow to show the two tattoos beneath: a dark skull with a snake slithering out of its open mouth and the simple tattoo of a full moon.

Ginny looked at it blankly, her brown eyes slightly irritated, her tone slow and painfully patient as if she was speaking to a small child, "Yes, that says she's Death Eater. Death Eaters are bad. Why are you preventing me from killing her?"

Draco smirked at her tone, "Look at the other tattoo, Gin. She's a werewolf."

Ginny's brown eyes opened widely in shock for a moment and then closed, "Draco, Voldemort has enlisted werewolves into his army before."

The blond man nodded, "You're right about that. They were willing volunteers too, but have any of them ever been members of the Order?" Draco pushed up the werewolf's other sleeve, where the old tattoo of the Order sat, shining brightly in the midday sun.

**XXV**

The werewolf, Murphy, had told them many things, her round face passionate and green eyes animated as she recounted her story. She and her pack, who had once been loyal to the Order due to Remus' involvement, had been captured by Voldemort and virtually enslaved. They were Death Eaters now and had no choice in the matter, or else their families would be killed.

Draco and Ginny released her, after asking her a few questions. As she walked away, Draco called her name and brought her back, quickly performing two spells on her with Murphy's wand.

The plan was that she would report the bodies to Voldemort, however, Draco knew that the Dark Lord would search her memories for clues. When he saw a conversation with a Weasley and the traitorous son of his right hand man, Voldemort would kill Murphy.

So Draco altered her memories, which would return later, after the Dark Lord had examined her mind.

Second, he gave her Order tattoo the ability to communicate him and Ginny, in case of emergency only, he said.

And then, they released her, watching silently in the trees like sentinels of the forest, their eyes watchful and guarded.

**XXV**

They made camp that night nearly twenty miles from where they met Murphy. Draco smiled as they put up the final wards; his body ached from all of the walking, a sore was appearing on his foot, but they were finally making some progress. If they kept up a pace like this, they could be at Hogwarts in a little more than a month's time.

They fell asleep quickly, before the Death Eaters appeared that night. They stomped through the forest, calling their names tauntingly in soft whispers. The Death Eaters knew for a fact that they were in the area, knew that they were moving by foot.

They probably even knew where they were going.

Ginny awoke with a start at the sound of her name, curling into her blanket in an attempt to find some sort of protection from the men crawling around the forest. Her breath came out in tiny puffs, visible in the frosty air. She called softly for Draco, but he didn't stir.

After ten minutes of listening to the men walk around, she crawled over to him, her red hair hanging in front of her face, and pushed him, trying to get him to stir, but he didn't move.

As a last attempt, she punched him squarely in the jaw, but Draco didn't respond; he didn't roll over, didn't make a sound, he barely moved his chest to breathe.

**XXV**

"Good morning, Draco. Are you going to tell me what you know today?" Lucius grinned maliciously down at his son.

Draco came to slowly, his eyes slower than usual to focus on the sharp planes of his father's face, a bone structure he shared.

"What do you want?" Draco mumbled groggily, his eyes finally coming into focus, the rest of his body becoming alert.

His senses were more sensitive than they usually before. The shackles on his wrists, which held his hands above his head, felt as if they were cutting through his skin; the lamp light pierced his eyes; he could smell his father's French cologne from where he sat, nearly three feet away.

Lucius slammed his cane on the stone floor, sending a sound like that of a whip cracking through Draco's ears and skull, "Be polite," Lucius barked.

Draco put on his snarkiest smile, "I'm sorry father, I meant to ask, 'what would you like to demand from me today, father?'"

Lucius beamed, as if under the impression that his son truly meant to be cooperative; Draco knew it was a façade. Lucius was seething inside. "Draco, I wanted to know what you told the Order."

The shackled blonde smiled inside; he loved denying his father what he wanted, no matter the pain it would bring, "I don't know what you mean, Lucius."

He saw his father's mask slip for a moment; his stone grey eyes hardened, his jaw tightened slightly, before the mask smoothly slipped back on and Lucius said pleasantly, "You left me and your mother all alone and joined the Order. But they wouldn't have taken you, my son, unless you gave them a reason to. What did you tell them? Why did they trust you?"

He smirked, his face curling into the familiar, derogatory smile his father had taught him, "What are you talking about, father? Clearly they accepted me because of my warm personality and the quality conversation that I provide."

Lucius whipped out his wand immediately, his patience having disappeared. He held it steadily at his son's throat, "Would you like to rethink your answer, Draco?"

His voice was so cold, Draco almost changed his answer, but he held fast instead, the set of his mouth stubborn.

With a shower of sparks, his body was wracked with pain, his nerve endings feeling as if they were curling.

The pain ended as quickly as it had begun; Draco leaned his head back against the stone wall supporting his back, pressing his cheek against the cold slate and closing his eyes; he centered himself, preparing for the next onslaught of torture.

It was worse this time, he realized. Before, when his father attacked him, it hadn't been nearly as bad. He wasn't sure how long he would be able to hold out.

Draco knew he couldn't tell his father the truth; the reason the Order had accepted him with somewhat open arms was because of Snape. He then decided that he would do what he did best: he would lie. But first, he had to deceive his father; he couldn't offer information too willingly.

"What did you tell them?" He heard his father demand as he realized with surprise that his ears had been ringing.

"You will never find out what they know," Draco spat at his father, his body tensing as he was the wand flick toward his manacled body and a flash of red shot through the air.

He thought he would die. Surely, he would die.

He had to die.

His ears rang with pain; sweat ran down his face, drenching his shirt; his hands clenched around the chains holding him; his fingernails split and bled.

Those were the sensations he knew; the pain was incomprehensible.

It ended. It had felt like an eternity, but it had ended.

Shaking, his body drenched in sweat, yet freezing all the same, he passed out; his last thought was that he now knew why the Longbottom's had gone insane.

**XXV**

He opened his eyes to see the yellow light of the midday sun shining down upon him, burning his eyes. He blinked, clearing away the tears that had risen in his sleep-deprived eyes.

"Draco." It was a sigh, a sound of relief.

He turned his head to see Ginny standing a few yards away, her hands clutching a rag and a dish as she stared at him with large, fearful eyes.

He tried to sit up, his body protesting with pangs of pain, his hands throbbing as he tried to grab at pieces of earth to support himself.

He ignored it, pushing through the pain, which he assumed had been caused by the fight the day before.

"They came again last night. They stayed even later, of course, seeing as we slaughtered a few of their members yesterday." Ginny said, her eyes on her hand as she washed the pan she had used to cook herself breakfast. She felt tears come to her eyes; she felt fear rarely, but now she could feel it racking through her body. "Draco, what's wrong?"

"What do you–" He tried to play it off, but his sentence was cut short as a shock of pain ran through his body.

She turned to look straight at him, her red hair glimmering in the sun, her large, brown eyes scrutinizing. "You're clearly in pain right now, although what we did yesterday should have only left a few sore muscles. You look like you've been tortured. Your eyes are bloodshot and you slept in until noon. I doubt that you've ever slept in before. And last night, I was screaming your name. You didn't even move. It was like you didn't even hear me."

Draco looked at the ground for a moment, picking at a few blades of grass, "I've been having nightmares. They consist of the same themes that my nightmares usually consist of: My father, torture, demands, dark stuff. But this time, it's _real_. What I feel in these nightmares, it doesn't have the fogginess of dreams. I can't explain it to you, but it's like I'm not actually sleeping."

Ginny put down the pan and crossed the space between them to sit next to him; he laid his head on her shoulder. "I know what it's like to be afraid," she said, her voice soft, "I know what it's like to feel as if you can't escape from your nightmares, but Draco, you're strong enough, I promise you."

She ran her fingers gently through his hair before kissing the top of his forehead.

"I love you." He murmured, his eyes drooping shut.

"I love you too, Draco."

**XXV**

Ginny opened the map to search for possible threats. The sun was setting; Draco had napped all day. They had packed all of their belongings and we preparing to take down the wards after Ginny checked for Death Eaters.

There were two, about half a mile away in the direction they were headed.

Draco nodded and stuffed his knives into his belt as Ginny told him where the Death Eaters were hidden.

She grabbed her bag, stuffing her knives in her boots, and quickly helped Draco take down the wards.

As the sun lit up the sky in a splash of violent red one last time before quickly giving in to the oncoming shades of dark blue, they set off at a run, each heading toward where they knew the two Death Eaters lay hidden.

They killed them both with precise, timed maneuvers, like a practiced execution team. Ginny snuck up behind one Death Eater, quickly slitting his throat where it was exposed just beneath the mask. Draco sliced the tendon in the knee of the other Death Eater, watching him fall to the ground before stabbing him in the heart.

They picked up their bags and continued moving, weaving their way through the dark forest, their hands clasped, fingers covered in the dried blood of the enemies.

**XXV**

It was nearly four in the morning, by Draco's estimate, when they made camp more than twenty miles away from their last campsite. They hadn't encountered any other Death Eaters along the way; Draco contributed this to the fact that Lucius didn't know exactly where they were.

They quickly put up the wards, protecting themselves from being seen, heard, or smelled and another ward to ensure that anyone who came within range of the wards couldn't detect them.

They were invisible.

Draco quickly gave Ginny a peck on the lips before he collapsed in his sleeping bag and drifted off to sleep.

**XXV**

"Draco. I will ask you one last time. What did you tell them?" Lucius growled, his voice holding poison.

Draco quickly calculated his position. He knew he couldn't withstand another torture spell. He couldn't talk his way out of this, either, considering he was chained to a wall. He sighed internally.

"I told you father, I'm not going to tell you." Draco said, his voice weary.

Lucius drew his wand slowly, pointing it at his son.

"Alright, I told them all of the wards you use to guard Malfoy Manor" Draco said quickly, trying to prevent his father from torturing him again.

"You did what?" Lucius demanded, his voice cold.

"I told them about your wards; I told them all of the incantations you use to protect Malfoy Manor. That's why they agreed to allow me to join the Order and protect me from you."

Draco didn't see it coming; one moment his father was standing three feet away, the next moment Lucius was on top of him, one large hand holding both of Draco's hands above his head as Lucius punched him with the other.

"You slimy little bastard!" Lucius yelled, hitting Draco in the face.

Draco felt a crunch; his nose was broken, again.

Lucius stood up and Draco laid his head down on the floor, feeling his warm blood rush onto the cold stone floor.

Lucius, his long hair pulled into a ponytail, his arrogant features distorted by the rage, kicked Draco in his torso.

Draco felt a sickly explosion of pain; at least two ribs were broken.

He felt another explosion on the side of his face as his father's leather boot connected with his jaw; his head cracked against the stonewall.

He felt blood running down his scalp before he blacked out again.

**XXV**

He woke up, his eyes burning in the bright sunlight. He cried out; it felt as if his body had been ripped apart.

He heard footsteps, felt the ground shake, and Ginny appeared above him, her face horrified.

"Draco–" She started to say, but stopped at his movements.

He shook his head, "Get me a mirror." His voice was cracked, as if he'd spent a dehydrated week in the desert.

She returned in a few moments with a cracked mirror and held it for him to see his reflection.

It was worse than he had imagined. His nose was clearly broken; blood ran from one nostril. His blonde hair was matted with blood, the color more brown than blonde; the color of rust. His lip was busted open and bleeding, a few teeth missing from his mouth. On his jaw and beneath his left eye, two blue bruises bloomed. His left eye was swollen shut, the eyelid a flushed red color.

Draco smiled a grim smile, "Ginny, now you've seen the aftermath of one of Lucius Malfoy's beatings.

**XXV**

**Review! It's my birthday!**

And all I really want for my birthday is just a ton of reviews.

Thanks for reading!

Katy


	26. Rebirth

**To the reader L**– your reviews were amazing. The Beautiful Series is still a work in progress, but I'm thinking about posting the third story. Your reviews really made me work to finish this chapter. Thank you. –Katy

**To the reader Child of the Sea 96–** You really need to enable the review reply on your account! :) Thank you for your review. I'm glad you enjoy the story so far and I'm sorry it took so long to upload. You have great taste in music; Drake is actually one of my favorite artists. His new album is amazing!

To the rest of my readers, sorry for the delay. I've been applying to colleges and scholarships. The economy sucks. Thanks for your patience and I hope you enjoy. Safe and Sound is by Taylor Swift, featuring the Civil Wars (fantastic song; it's for the Hunger Games!), all characters belong to JKR.

I remember tears streaming down your face

When I said, I'll never let you go

When all those shadows almost killed your light

I remember you said, Don't leave me here alone

But all that's dead and gone and passed tonight

Just close your eyes

The sun is going down

You'll be alright

No one can hurt you now

Come morning light

You and I'll be safe and sound

Don't you dare look out your window

Darlin', everything's on fire

The war outside our door keeps raging on

Hold onto this lullaby

Even when the music's gone

Just close your eyes

The sun is going down

You'll be alright

No one can hurt you now

Come morning light

You and I'll be safe and sound

Just close your eyes

You'll be alright

Come morning light,

You and I'll be safe and sound…

-Taylor Swift

**Chapter 26: Rebirth**

Her heart flew up in her throat as she stared down at his bloody image. There was no way this was happening, her mind protested. She closed her eyes, willing it to be a dream.

It wasn't.

The panic set in; a million questions flooded her brain at once. How had this happened? Who had done this? Were the wards faulty? And where were those goddamned bandages?

Her hands frantically plunged into her bag, searching for the bandages she knew were inside. She finally found purchase on them, her fingers closing tightly around the slick wooden box, afraid to lose it.

She ran and filled a basin with water from a bottle she had. She brought it back to him and set to work, attempting to relieve the pain and wipe away the blood.

She could only achieve one of these things, however, and the wounds weren't clean for long. She had no medicine to relieve his pain.

She set off a slur of curse words in her mind, silently promising to end whoever had done this, as she gently pressed a wet cloth to the injuries on his once beautiful face.

She was still in shock; she had known something was wrong with Draco, but this? This she hadn't seen coming. But she knew she had to help him.

She continued to clean his wounds, pressing a wet cloth to the bleeding injuries.

The cloth just kept coming back blood-soaked; its white hue stained a brilliant red.

She wrapped his head wound in gauze and gave him a bandage to hold to his broken nose. This was all she could do; his injuries were above her skill-level; they were far too serious for her to mend.

What to do? What could she do?

She silently cursed again. They were in the middle of the damn woods. They needed a healer, but finding a healer meant traveling for miles to the nearest town. And even then, they wouldn't know if they could trust the healer. That is, if they found one at all.

She looked over at Draco, his face bandaged and bruised so much that he was unrecognizable. Her resolve hardened.

She had to do something; he couldn't just tough these injuries out. They couldn't heal his injuries themselves, their wands were being monitored for any activity and she couldn't heal him with the meager supply of gauze and bandages they had.

He isn't even recognizable, she reminded herself.

She stood, her mind made up, and told Draco to continue putting pressure on his nose.

She quickly ran around their camp, collecting their supplies and putting them in her bag. Then she grabbed Draco's bag and swung it over her shoulder too. She armed herself and then gave him a knife, knowing that if he were attacked, there wouldn't be much he could do. But it made him feel a little better, a little less helpless, and she knew it.

But now, how to get out of here? They couldn't walk. Draco had a severe head wound; he would pass out or die before they made it. She quickly grabbed her wand and stepped outside the wards. She couldn't hear Draco's protests, but she knew he wasn't approving of what she was about to do.

She summoned a broom.

She couldn't heal his wounds with magic, she didn't have the knowledge for that and it required staying in one place, but maybe, just maybe, the broom would arrive before the Death Eaters.

**XXVI**

She swerved through the trees, nearly crashing several times. Draco was behind her, unconscious. She had had to buckle him to her with a belt. The Death Eaters had appeared moments before the broom.

She had dispatched them quickly; they had been lower-ranking officials. Probably because of all of the "false alarms" they had been responding to every time Draco has set up a ward. Lucius and Bellatrix wouldn't be bothered nonsense such as that.

The broom had landed at her feet moments after the last death eater died, his body engulfed in an inferno. She had quickly dragged Draco onto the broom, strapping the bags around her body and belting him to herself.

The last thing he needed was a twenty-foot drop to the unforgiving ground.

A new group of death eaters had appeared as she took off and she had flown in the opposite direction she meant to, trying to make sure they didn't know where she went.

Now she was making up for that precaution, making a large arc around their campsite toward the nearest city.

Trees appeared out of nowhere, the broom speeding toward them before she gently adjusted the trajectory. It was dangerous, but so was flying in the sky, unhindered; there would be no coverage to hide them from prying eyes up there.

Draco groaned in his sleep and she pushed up the speed, using all of her experience as a keeper in this one flight.

It would have been exhilarating if not for the unconscious man on her broom.

**XXVI**

She quickly walked through on the sidewalks of a city, snagging a hat from a table as it's owner bent to retrieve something he had dropped, stealing a coat from the back of a chair. She needed disguises.

No time to find a store.

Finally, she had collected enough assorted garments for two people and stuffed them in her bag. She strode back the way she came, her legs itching to run, but running could bring attention and they had to stay incognito.

Especially now that the Death Eaters knew one of them was injured.

The pursuit would be on, hot and hard. She could practically feel their eyes watching her as she weaved her way quickly through the crowd.

She finally reached the spot she had hidden Draco in: a small grove of trees just outside the city. He lay with his head on a rock, his body immobile. She dressed him quickly, moving his weak arms through the coat sleeves like a child's.

When she finished, he was completely covered, only his eyes visible; the rest of his face hidden behind a scarf and hat. She looked about the same.

His injuries made him unrecognizable, but a bleeding man staggering down the street would definitely draw attention.

She silently thanked whoever was listening for the cold weather. They wouldn't have been able to do this had it been summer.

She supported his weight until they reached the city, whispering to him that he now had to walk on his own.

He was strong; she knew he could do it. He nodded silently.

**XXVI**

She couldn't remember exactly how she had found the healer. She remembered flashes of what had happened: casting a glace worriedly at Draco, staring at the map in her locket, her feet moving hurriedly in her boots over cobblestone, the scarf itching her face, an old healer, a red door, an Order tattoo.

She had been able to gather that the healer, Rosemary, was a member of the Order. Ginny supposed that was how she had found Rosemary– with her map.

**XXVI**

The worst part of being separated from someone was imagining the things they would say to you, Ginny thought as she stared down at Draco's sleeping face.

He was pale, paler than usual. Normally, he had soft, beautiful alabaster skin tone, much like her own. Now, he just looked unhealthy; his white skin tinged a bit with green, his dark bruises standing out starkly against it.

He'd been asleep for nearly four days. Rosemary had assured her that he wasn't in a coma, per se. She had cast some sort of spell to keep him asleep while his body healed itself. The pain would be unimaginable if he were awake.

Rosemary didn't talk much; she preferred to convey her thoughts through motions and pointed looks. But she had taken the time to explain Draco's injuries.

A cracked skull. A broken nose. A concussion. A broken jaw. Four broken ribs. Cuts all over his body. Countless bruises.

She redressed his wounds, something Rosemary had taught her. Peeling back the bandages, she felt her stomach curl.

And then, she almost laughed at herself. She had changed so much in the past six months or so. She had killed people, without hesitation, without remorse. She had left people bleeding to death in the woods. She had crossed half of the United Kingdom, leaving a string of death in her wake.

But some things never change, apparently. Looking at Draco's wounds, the skin pulled tightly together by black thread, her stomach still dropped.

She thought for a moment; maybe it wasn't that she hadn't changed, but that she _had_ changed. She was in love with this unconscious man, desperately so. Maybe it wasn't his wounds that tormented her, but the fact that he was wounded.

She finished patching up the rest of his wounds, spreading ointment on them and rewrapping them with clean, unused gauze.

She planted a kiss on his forehead, pressing all of her love into him with her soft lips. Stroking his face, she whispered, "What happened to you, Draco?"

Her question wasn't met with an answer, only the rhythm of his breathing as he continued to sleep.

**XXVI**

Draco spent his moments suspended between reality and dreams. He couldn't tell one from the other, and yet, neither existed. Images swirled through his mind, interspersed by periods of darkness: tattoos, the spiraling towers of a castle, the sight of a city from far above, Blaise, red hair, white masks, and various pairs of eyes. Red, green, a soft brown, a cruel silver. All of them staring at him.

And Ginny was there, always Ginny, with her light laugh and ruby hair and soft hands.

And then the time came when he had a concrete dream.

He was crawling silently through air ducts, something he used to do for his father before he had reached eighty pounds. This time, though, he wasn't spying on his father's enemies. He was spying on his father.

He reached the vent, squinting through the slatted metal grate to watch his father murmuring with a person who was obscured in shadow. His father stopped in the middle of a whispered sentence, his head whipping around to stare directly at where Draco hid in the vents. As Lucius' hard eyes connected with his son's, Draco saw the face of the figure behind him.

Suddenly, he was in front of Hogwarts, staring up at the towers as the disappeared into the clouds. He had always wondered how something so tall could stay so strong. Didn't all things fall?

A part of his conscious mind corrected him: No, all _tyrants_ fall. He smiled grimly at that thought; maybe all his troubles wouldn't be for nothing.

A figure approached, a silver and green Slytherin tie slung around his neck. Draco did a double take.

The figure laughed, a warm laugh that filled the air, "Never thought I'd see such an idiotic look on sure-faced Draco Malfoy."

Draco felt his mouth tug into a smile as he turned to take in Blaise's dark skin and hair, "Yeah, well a lot's happened. I just wasn't expecting to see you here, especially in your school uniform."

Blaise shrugged in response, his hands carelessly in his pockets as he stared at the building in front of them.

He looked so carefree; Draco almost envied him as he felt the tension in his own shoulders.

The comfortable silence lingered a few more moments in the crisp early morning air before Draco asked, "So why are we here? We usually meet on that beach."

"Hmm?" Blaise lazily pulled his eyes off of the building. Draco felt his heart drop; his friend missed Hogwarts as much as he did. "Oh, this is where you need to go."

A thin, blonde eyebrow lifted in curiosity on Draco's forehead, "It's where I was planning on going."

Blaise smirked, his lips curling while his eyes glinted in amusement. His voice was patient, "I know. You have to get here faster. Right now you're injured, I'm not sure if you knew that. But you need to get here now. It's the only place that's safe."

Draco sensed urgency, despite his friend's calm tone. His body stiffened, "What's changed?"

Blaise's brown eyes drifted slowly from his friend's surprised face back to the spiraling towers and flying buttresses as his voice became quiet, "Nothing yet. But the tides of war are always changing. Get here soon. Trust me."

And with that cryptic message, the dream dissolved and Blaise disappeared.

**XXVI**

Draco awoke suddenly, slightly irritated. Blaise had been too cryptic in his dream and it pissed him off. And his body hurt like hell.

He tried to move, his attempts met with the screaming protests of aching body parts.

Shit.

He sat up slowly, pulling his entire body by his arms into a sloppy sitting position supported mostly by the wall behind him. Apparently, his bed didn't have a headboard. He heard a gasp to his right and then the shutting of a door.

Ginny had just walked in, carrying a tray of bandages.

And she was dressed in completely different clothes than he had last seen her in.

He focused his eyes on her, which was hard considering his pounding headache, "How long have I been out?"

Draco winced slightly at his raspy voice.

Ginny set the tray down on a nearby dresser and practically ran to his side, her face full of worry and love. She clasped her hands around one of his and sat down in a rocker next to his bed, one he suspected she had sat in quite a few times since they'd been there.

Wherever 'there' was.

Her brown eyes glanced around anxiously in a way that told him he wasn't going to like the answer, "About four days."

Draco's eye went wide with shock, and then he took in everything. He was in an almost unbearable amount of pain, but there was also an aching in his body underneath that. Yes, he'd been motionless for a long time. Ginny's face was weary; she, apparently, hadn't slept since they'd been here.

"Where are we?" Draco croaked.

"We're in the house of a healer. Her name is Rosemary." Ginny said quietly, her voice soothing. She added as an afterthought, "She doesn't talk much. It's a bit strange."

He decided to ignore this. "What happened?"

Ginny frowned in a look of concern, "You're going to have to tell me that. You'd been having all those nightmares, which was unusual. And then one morning I woke up and you were bleeding all over and–" Her voice broke. She cleared her throat as she stared at a nonexistent speck on the wall and composed herself once again, "I flew you here. We didn't have much time. I had to summon the brooms with magic." She saw Draco about to protest and gave him a knowing look. "Yes, I know. I flew away in the opposite direction and then looped back around. It should buy us some time, but I don't know how much. Which is why you have to drink this."

Draco eyed the white bottle in her hand, although he already knew what it contained: a noxious, inedible concoction. Skele-Gro.

His silver eyes widened in alarm before Ginny swooped down and spooned a mouthful between his lips, which had opened in protest. He struggled, trying to spit up the foul liquid, but Ginny held him down, forcing his mouth and nose closed until he was forced to swallow.

Swallowing the Skele-Gro, which happened to taste like a smoothie of all things evil, Draco glared at Ginny as she smirked and remarked that it hadn't been that hard, had it?

"That was the most disgusting thing I have ever tasted. And I've been turned into a ferret before. Do you have any idea what ferrets like to eat?" Draco demanded from where he lay propped up in the bed.

"No, I don't happen to know. But whatever they do eat, it probably won't help them regrow a cracked skull, a fractured jaw, a shattered nose, and four broken ribs."

"Oh, is that all that happened?" Draco asked drily, holding his nose as Ginny spooned another bit of the Skele-Gro into his mouth.

"No, I believe you alsobhave a concussion, tons of cuts from a knife, and a lot of bruises." Ginny responded nonchalantly, wielding the spoon threateningly.

It was silent while Draco tried to swallow the rest of the Skele-Gro. He examined the small details of the room. A dresser in the middle. A lamp on the nightstand next to him. A rocking chair. Some soft, white curtains, the cleanest part of the room, flowing softly from a slight draft.

"So what happened, Draco?" Ginny asked softly, staring at the white glass bottle of Skele-Gro in her hands.

"It was Lucius. I'd been having these dreams about him. He was holding me prisoner. Torturing me." Draco swallowed painfully past a lump in his throat. "I thought they were just nightmares. And then, the stuff he did to me kept coming into the real world. It was awful. Disorienting. And I felt like I hadn't slept at all; maybe because I really hadn't. He kept asking me questions. He wanted to know what I promised the Order so they would protect me." Draco gave a harsh laugh. "He kept playing mind games with me, too. He told me I'd been there for a while; he said you were dead. I finally lied and told him that I told them all of the wards he used on Malfoy Manor and all of the countercurses. He got so angry that he beat me. And then, I woke up. I thought the pain would end there, but it didn't."

"Draco…" Ginny's voice held all of the pity she felt for him. She quickly erased the emotion from her voice as his mercury eyes gave her a sharp look. "Draco, what you're saying– it's impossible. It's unlike anything we've ever heard of."

Draco grinned grimly, his dried, cracked lips bleeding as they stretched. "It's magic, Ginny. Nothing's impossible. Even if we haven't heard of it, it's still completely possible. Especially with the right people."

Ginny's eyebrows knit together in confusion. "What do you mean, the right people?"

Draco's raspy voice replied as the speaker leaned back into his pillows, suddenly looking exhausted, "It's dark magic. I think Lucius created a spell that would attack me every time I slept. Then, I was transported to his dungeon in my dreams, where he could torture me. I think it's possible that he was asleep during these nightmares too. Our minds might have connected somehow. Only someone truly dark, truly evil, could perform these curses. Much like what I said about the Killing Curse when I found you in June. You have to mean it."

Ginny flashed back to those first days after the incident, the rape, that had lead Draco to her. He had said something about having to mean to truly kill someone, to tear your soul apart, in order to use it. She hadn't realized what he had meant then; her mind had been torn apart that night.

It was only now, now that she was finally and completely whole once again, that she realized exactly how fragmented she had been last summer. She was certainly not the girl she had once been, but she was maybe a better version.

She had been truly tormented, hunted and tortured for amusement; her security and sanity threatened. And it had taken a lot to put her back together.

Draco's quick, silver eyes caught the slight change in her face, "What? What are you thinking?"

Ginny gave a small smile, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear and spooning more Skele-Gro into Draco's mouth, "I was just thinking about how much things have changed since–" She stopped mid-sentence, trying to find her words. Failing, she added lamely, "since that."

Draco quickly swallowed past the disgusting taste, finding it easier to ignore now that his mind was on something else. Things certainly had changed.

His mind flashed back to that night, as he was sure Ginny's was doing too. If he was being honest with himself, he had nightmares about that night more than he admitted. He tried to be quiet, to muffle his screams, for Ginny's sake. She had just gotten over her own nightmares; she didn't need his intersecting with hers. He just couldn't forget his own rage, and terror, that he had felt that night. The things he had seen, the things he had done, that night and the nights after, would haunt him as much as his darkest moments at the hands of Lucius.

He had seen one of the most horrifying sights of his entire life. And he'd seen a lot of horrifying things. He'd seen his best friend die before, but for some reason, seeing the rape of a girl he barely knew at the hands of his ex-friends was just as terrorizing.

And then, he'd finally allowed all of his rage to escape. He had acted without thinking and killed them. He was Draco, strategic, wise, calculating Draco. He plotted every move, calculated every possible obstacle. Even running away was something he had planned for a long time. But that night, he had finally lost control.

And that was terrifying. He knew that if he lost control, he could become Lucius.

In his mind's eye, Lucius whispered in his son's ear, "We're a lot alike, you and I, Draco."

Draco shivered slightly, causing Ginny to awake from her own reverie, "What? Are you cold?"

He silently shook his head and Ginny realized why he had shivered; of course he'd be thinking about that night too.

She smiled softly and covered his hand with hers, "It's okay, everything has changed for the better."

He nodded softly, leaning back on his pillow and smiling as he closed his eyes.

"I love you, Draco" She whispered, "Thank you for everything, I couldn't have done it without you. You saved me."

He raised an eyebrow, keeping his eyes closed, "Did I really? I know I helped you learn to protect yourself, but it was kind of after the fact. And you never really received any therapy."

Ginny wrinkled her nose at the thought of spending every day lying on a couch and talking to an old therapist whose office smelled of mothballs and sad, dying plants. "I don't need a therapist."

This time, Draco's eyes flew open, "Are you sure? We could get you one. You probably need someone to talk to; someone other than me."

Ginny cracked a smile, "You're being ridiculous. We're in the middle of a war, where would you find a therapist?"

Draco looked even more distraught, his silver eyes panicked. "You shouldn't have to suffer any more because we're in a war!"

She shushed him and gently pushed him back onto his stack of pillows, "I'm not suffering." She whispered, smoothing his hair back with her hand, "You've helped me more than you know. You've given me something to do, a reason to live, something to help me forget. You've given me security. And you've given me someone to love."

"I love you too" He smiled gently and closed his eyes again.

**XXVI**

A clock. The hands were spinning. An hourglass. The last grains of sand were falling through its curve. And then, Blaise.

"I get it." Draco said, they were on the beach again, "No need for the not-so-obscure symbolism. Time's running out, we need to get to safety."

Blaise smiled, "Glad you got it. I thought you'd appreciate my symbols. So, why haven't you left yet?"

Draco frowned, "I'm really injured. I don't think I can travel."

"It's not as bad as you think."

"Blaise, you have no idea. Ginny said I have a cracked skull, a fractured jaw–"

"Yeah, and a shattered nose, four broken ribs, and a concussion. I know." Blaise smirked triumphantly at Draco's puzzled face.

"How do you know?"

Blaise shot him a withering look, his dark eyes ever so patient, "Draco, I'm a fucking angel. I'm dead. I know everything. What, you think I'm just spending my days sipping piña colada's on a beach while you fight a fucking war? I'm watching it like Americans watch the super bowl."

"Glad we could provide primetime entertainment for you, Blaise." Draco remarked. "Are you really an angel?"

"I don't know. Maybe, maybe not. Maybe you're crazy and this is all in your head." Blaise replied, grinning.

"That's reassuring."

Blaise smirked and turned to leave before he stopped and looked over his shoulder, "Oh and Draco. Get the fuck out of that house. Now." Blaise's grin glowed with a happiness contradictory to his words as the dream faded and he disappeared.

**XXVI**

Draco opened his eyes to see a blue-gray color.

Eyes. Smiling, gray eyes set into a wrinkled face. A familiar face, one from his childhood.

His heart stopped. He sat up immediately, clutching his head as he did so. Pulling back a hand, he saw that blood spotted the palm; his stitches had reopened.

It was the least of his worries, really.

Draco jerked back the covers, ignoring his body's protests as his feet hit the cold floor. He stumbled and caught himself on the rocking chair Ginny had occupied earlier.

He heard the old woman's voice behind him, "Draco–".

He ignored it, pulled himself up, and hobbled out of the room, his hands clutching one of the gauze bandages at his side as he felt warm liquid well up under his fingers. His bones had mended, but his cuts hadn't, apparently.

He took a moment to feel properly annoyed at that.

It figured.

"Ginny!" He stumbled down the hall yelling her name. She burst out of one of the doors in the narrow hallway, running down to meet him, her brown eyes wide.

Draco leaned against one of the walls, swallowing past the exhaustion and fear in his throat, and pointed toward the door.

A mixture of relief and irritation passed over Ginny's face. She looked as if she couldn't choose between laughing and swearing, "That's Rosemary."

As if the name furthered his fear, Draco grabbed Ginny's arm and started pulling her down the stairs, explaining between gasps of breath, "I know. She's my grandmother. That is Lucius' mother."

Ginny went slack for a moment, allowing Draco to pull her down a few more stairs before she began resisting again. She grabbed the railing, "Draco, she has an Order tattoo."

Draco's head whipped around, his mercury eyes as wild as a trapped animal's, "It doesn't matter whose tattoo she has! You think Lucius doesn't have this house under surveillance? You think he doesn't drop by occasionally to keep his own mother in line?"

**XXVI**

They gathered their things and left. Ginny insisted on Draco walking back up the stairs and thanking Rosemary for all she had done. He did, as graciously as he could, considering his earlier reaction.

It was strange, Ginny thought as she grabbed their bags and broom and thanked Rosemary once more, how Draco had reacted to seeing his kindly, little grandmother. She shrugged it off; his entire family was completely dysfunctional in a way that had never before been experienced. She really should stop being surprised.

They quickly walked down the small pathway that led away from Rosemary's house and through a small rosebush garden and then swiftly wound their way through the crowded streets and out of the city. They didn't bother with disguises; darkness had already fallen and they met no one on the streets.

When they were out of the city and hidden by the trees once again, Ginny set the bags down and retrieved the broom from inside of one. She handed the broom to Draco, who straddled it and kicked off the ground.

Ginny rummaged through the two bags, her hands grazing bunches of clothes, medical supplies, snacks she had grabbed from Rosemary's, and a motley of other objects. She tossed Draco's knives to him, the inlaid silver moon and golden sun glistening in the moonlight as they soared through the air and Draco caught them where he hovered above the ground.

Ginny then armed herself and strapped the two bags on as Draco dove to the ground and stopped the broom beside her.

They soared off in the direction of Hogwarts, their path illuminated by the silver moon.

**XXVI**

The soaring towers of Hogwarts poked through the clouds, soft moonlight gleaming off their roofs. They quietly dismounted the broom and stood awkwardly outside the gate for a moment, each wondering how to break into an impenetrable fortress.

And then, the gates slowly creaked open. Ginny glanced at Draco and gave him a worn, relieved smile.

**XXVI**

Fred quickly followed his brother through the woods, his heart pounding as he ducked to avoid being hit by a curse. He watched the red streak fly past his head and fizzle into the bark of a nearby tree.

They continued to race downhill, the forest providing little cover under the light of the moon. He heard a howl as he jumped over a log.

Fear blossomed in his heart, adrenaline rushing through his veins; Greyback was close.

He shot a curse at one of the Death Eaters, taking him down immediately. He and George could have taken them all down, if they hadn't been closing in, if George hadn't already been injured.

He felt a warm sensation on his arm, but kept running. Reaching his brother, he caught hold of George under his arm and tugged on him.

They heard a footstep about thirty feet away.

The twins stared at one another, horror reflected in their identical faces. Irrationally, Fred smiled as he remembered how they used to confuse their mum and convince her that she didn't know which of them was which.

And then, the Death Eaters vanished in a swirl of murmurs and smoke and black capes.

Fred collapsed with his twin against the back of an oak tree, resting his head as he grabbed his sword and held onto it.

He glanced over at George, his twin had a nasty burn on his calf from a curse that had grazed him. If only they had Ginny, she could probably heal it in a second.

Looking down, he saw red on his own arm. For a second, his heart skipped a beat. And then, he recognized what it was.

A message:

"'About to be captured. Tread carefully. Long live the Inferno. Vereor non cinis cineris.' –Charlie"

**XXVI**

Bill's arms were wrenched behind his back and above his head as he fell to his knees somewhere in the forests outside Hogsmeade. They had been so close, how could this have happened? He glanced at his brother, who was also kneeling, before glancing up into the cold eyes of the Death Eaters. His mind searched for a way out, but they were outnumbered and unarmed. They'd both lost their wands and weapons in the fight.

They had been taught to fight, to expect this. His mind kept wandering back to the same question: How? He closed his eyes as the lead Death Eater, Lucius Malfoy, he suspected, poked the tip of his wand between Bill's eyes. Fleur's face suddenly swam in front of his eyelids; she would be a young widow soon.

He heard the slightest crunch of earth to his left, where Charlie was struggling. And then he realized: his brother was right; they couldn't go down without a fight. They were the ones most prepared for a situation like this. They could still fight.

If they didn't fight, what did that say? How could they just give up, after fighting for so long? How could they just give up when the rest of the Order was watching?

It was simple: They couldn't.

He jerked his hands free of the Death Eater behind him, one of his hands shooting upward and snapping the Head Death Eater's wand in half as his other arm jammed backward, elbowing the Death Eater behind him in the crotch. His opponent went down, hitting the floor of the forest and lying in a heap, groaning. Bill quickly stomped down on his neck, snapping it, before turning toward the Head Death Eater. Charlie was making quick work of his own opponents, having already killed two and disarmed another.

Bill snapped his fist out toward the Death Eater he faced, feinting, and served him a roundhouse kick to his temple, knocking him to the ground. The Death Eater didn't move, either unconscious or dead; Bill didn't know which, but he realized then that it wasn't Lucius Malfoy, merely a younger wizard.

He quickly killed that wizard too. He looked around, Charlie had killed the rest. They made eye contact and quickly evacuated the area, it would soon be swarming with blood thirsty Death Eaters.

They made camp about two miles from the site, quickly putting up wards and sending an all clear message to the rest of the team before settling down to wait out the night.

**XXVI**

Draco had read Ginny the first message from her brothers as they climbed the stairs of the main hall. He had watched her face slowly close down, her jaw and fists clenching as she nodded, once in the affirmative, to let him know she had heard. The second message had come half an hour later, as they were wandering around the halls of Hogwarts. Her brown eyes had welled up with tears of relief when she heard her brothers were safe.

They both collapsed on the bed, having searched for a room hidden deep in the corridors of Hogwarts; they were somewhere near the East Tower, Ginny thought. The moon was high in the sky, its light reflecting off their bodies as they both quickly stripped off their dirty clothing, too exhausted to listen to their hormones.

They fell asleep to the sound of each other's breathing.

**XXVI**

Ginny awoke in the morning to the warm feeling of sunlight and linens on her skin. She opened her eyes to see Draco's sleeping face. Smiling, she crawled across the bed, perched near him, and kissed him softly on his cheek before moving down and nipping at his jaw line with her teeth.

His eyes flashed open, the silver irises finding her immediately as he laughed softly, "Good morning."

Ginny smiled back, her red hair dancing in the sunlight, "Shh, don't speak," she said as she kissed him on the lips.

He grabbed her around the waist, his arms curling around her as he deepened the kiss and rolled on top of her.

His hands flowed over her body, moving across her stomach, chest, up her thighs. She'd never been touched like that. And she was certain she didn't want it to stop.

She would think later, about how it was partly the extreme relief and almost slaphappy joy that drove her to this. And how the other part was that she loved him deeply.

She reached behind his head, pressing his mouth even closer to his, kissing him as if she might die without his lips, pulling his body closer as if she would starve without his touch.

Her hands wandered across his chest, feeling the flat, smooth planes beneath her fingers, the corded muscle stretching beneath her palms.

They both quickly ripped apart the remaining clothing separating them–his cotton boxers disappearing as fast as her soft bra and panties.

He continued to touch her; his hands wandering across the landscape of her body, skimming across her skin in places she'd never been touched before.

They fit together like two pieces of a puzzle, their bodies rocking like a wave in the ocean. She felt no pain, only extreme pleasure as she gasped into a kiss.

Her entire body craved to be closer to him, to finally be one with him, as their bodies and tongues simultaneously intertwined and he wrapped his arms around her waist.

She gazed into his silver eyes, the color of soft moonlight, as she whispered that she loved him.

**XXVI**

They sat in the middle of a pile of scrapped parchment, each silently staring at the paper in front of them, blindly concentrating on the task at hand: a plan of attack.

Ideas were scrawled on crumpled pieces of paper. Books were laid out all along the floor of the library, their spines injured from having been opened thousands of times by the students who had passed through the school over the decades. Empty inkbottles and broken quills littered the ground around where they both sat.

Draco chanced a glance at Ginny, wondering if she was thinking about this morning. It had been wonderful. Amazing. Perfect.

He had almost wanted to cry as he lay in his arms this morning, the room filled with the intensity of their love.

He had never felt love, or any other emotion for that matter, as passionately as he did in the moment. It brought the stinging sensation of tears to his eyes, but he choked them down.

Tears were rarely a turn-on for girls.

He shook his head, clearing his mind and attempting to concentrate on the task at hand.

He must really love her, he mused. He had never had so much trouble focusing.

His eyes moved back down to the parchment in his lap, detailing a neat outline of everyone he expected to fight for the Order. It totaled up to nearly two thousand people, minimum. However, the Death Eater's numbers were where it got tricky. It had been a few months since he'd run away.

Usually, he had kept tabs on their numbers, mostly out of curiosity, rather than necessity. But since he had run away, he had, of course, no way to know how many members there were. When he had been around, their numbers had been around 5,000. However, the summer was typically viewed as recruiting time– new graduates were the most vulnerable– and he hadn't been there during that time.

At the same time, the Order had killed quite a few Death Eaters this summer. Draco estimated that he and his team had killed about 200 Eaters alone, but he couldn't quite be sure.

He silently cursed himself for not keeping records.

Either way, there was a great chance that the Order was vastly outnumbered, which meant that guerilla warfare was their only option.

It also meant that the battle would have to be brought to them at Hogwarts. And he was well aware that there were only a few wizards who could capture Voldemort's attention enough to bring the Dark Lord himself into the fight.

The gears in his mind slowly clicked as he began to scribble the outline of a plan.

**XXVI**

They ate a lunch prepared by house elves, who thankfully still occupied the castle, as they sat in the grand dining hall.

Draco's eyes wandered around the expansive hall, mesmerized by the graceful beauty he had never had time to appreciate before. There had always been too much noise, too much excitement, too many girls to hit on, too many people to make fun of, for him to appreciate the broad, hand-carved arches that flew above his head as if weighing no more than a flower. Or the gentle, floating candles and gilded podium Dumbledore had always stood in front of. As he lifted his head to appreciate the sky outside, his thoughts were suddenly interrupted by a voice.

"It's quite magnificent. Helga Hufflepuff and Godric Gryffindor cast the enchantment themselves."

Draco nearly jumped out of his skin, dropping the peanut butter sandwich he had been enjoying, as Ginny squealed in delight, "Dumbledore!"

The ancient wizard stood in front of them in all his glory, his gilded periwinkle robes swishing as he moved toward where they sat. He smiled gently as he laid his hand on the table, "I noticed you arrived yesterday. A rough trip, I'm assuming?"

Draco took a moment to wonder how Dumbledore knew this as Ginny answered in the affirmative and went into detail of the dangers they had faced. It wasn't like Hogwarts had a muggle alarm system. Perhaps wards, though? Draco had to admit that he hadn't sensed any wards as he had entered the grounds, but he wasn't going to fool himself into thinking that his own powers were anywhere near those of Dumbledore's in terms of potency. But if he knew when they had arrived, was it possible he knew what had occurred this morning? Draco stifled a shiver at the thought and tuned into the discussion being held.

Ginny was finishing up a short story of one of the battles they had fought as Dumbledore remarked, "It seems you two went to quite some trouble to get here. I'm afraid the storm isn't quite over yet, I believe quite a tempest is about to erupt on these grounds, but perhaps we've reached the eye of the storm and it is time for a respite. I'm sure your brothers would love one as well, Ginny." Dumbledore winked in Ginny's direction as he headed toward the entryway and disappeared into the hall, his robes swishing behind him.

Ginny frowned in bewilderment at the comment about her brothers before she hopped off the bench and hurried out the room, following Dumbledore. Draco quickly grabbed his sandwich and followed suit.

With a flick of his wand, Dumbledore opened the towering, wooden doors of Hogwarts. They opened with a cranking sound to reveal a shocked Fred, his hand still raised in the air, poised to push open the door. Behind him stood his three brothers, their faces equally as surprised.

Ginny stood for a second, quickly taking in each of her brothers. George seemed to be leaning heavily on Charlie, but other than that they seemed to have all of their body parts. She raced across the hall, tackling Fred and dragging him into a hug with the other three.

Draco stood awkwardly in the hall with Dumbledore, happy to let them have their family reunion. He owed them that, at least. It was partly his fault they had been separated.

Ginny squeezed each of her brothers as if she feared ever being separated from them again as they, in turn, lifted her off the ground and kissed her forehead. She nearly fainted when she saw the burn on George's leg before she healed it with a simple flick of her wand. Draco smiled at that; he hadn't realized how lucky he had been to have paired up with a healing genius. As she examined their dirt- and blood-covered faces and clothes, as well as their matted hair, she began to insist they go shower upstairs. Instead, they all ignored her and moved as one large, chaotic wall toward Draco and Dumbledore, exchanging handshakes and hugs, before simultaneously beginning to yell about food and moving toward the dining hall.

They each exchanged stories about their closest calls, Ginny explaining the extent of Draco's injuries as he pointed to the various stitches, bandages, and bruises, before she described, in painstakingly specific detail, Draco's reaction to seeing his own grandmother. It was a few minutes before the laughter calmed down after that and Draco could explain exactly why he was "terrified of his own sweet, elderly grandmother".

Fred and George vividly described several run-ins with what they called "painfully beautiful muggle women", to which Draco commented that it must have been extremely hard to evade their charm. George insisted they must have been part Veela while Fred hung his head sheepishly and admitted that they had fallen victim to their charms. Charlie shook his head in jealousy, clearly regretting having been paired with his married brother.

Charlie and Bill took their own turns describing several frightening battles against Death Eaters, including the one they had the previous night. Charlie then took the liberty of declaring that Bill kept a picture of Fleur in his shirt pocket and sometimes wept while holding it when he thought Charlie was asleep. Draco, Fred, and George made faces of disgust and jokes about Bill's lack of manhood as Ginny made soft, cute sounds and Bill chased Charlie around the Dining Hall, attempting to rip his brother's lips off.

Eventually, they settled down long enough for Draco to fish the piece of parchment out of his pocket and spread it across the table as he and Ginny pointed to various aspects of it and explained them.

The four Weasley brothers were silent for once as they expounded on several parts of it. When the explanation reached an end, it was silent until Bill mused softly, "It seems risky."

Fred immediately countered, "Bill, you just traveled 200 fucking miles, left your wife God-knows-where, singlehandedly killed dozens of Death Eaters, robbed innocent bystanders, slept in the woods and trees and random-ass abandoned buildings, you've encountered werewolves under full moons, you've conned your way across the country, and the most you've had to eat within the last week is most likely a handful of bark. Are you seriously going to fucking worry about riskiness now?"

Bill thoughtfully considered his brother's statement before answering, "You're right. Fuck it, risky seems to be working. Let's do it."

**XVI**

Thanks for reading! Sorry for the delay, I've had to think about this a lot. However, I think I've got a plan for the ending. It should be within two chapters.

**Fucking review, people.**

Katy.


	27. Rising

Well, this is the final chapter before the Epilogue. I want to give a shout-out to all of my faithful readers, but especially those of you who review. You guys are awesome. It is honestly what has kept me writing this and I get a lot of inspiration by seeing what you're wondering will happen. PM me any time, guys, you're my favorite people. If anyone ever needs help with a story, let me know. I love doing stuff like that.

Speaking of which, **PurpleNeon** has a story coming out, so everyone support that when it debuts.

Alas, I hope you enjoy.

**Chapter 27: Rising**

"Some say the world will end in fire,

Some say in ice.

From what I've tasted of desire

I hold with those who favor fire.

But if it had to perish twice,

I think I know enough of hate

To say that for destruction ice

Is also great

And would suffice."

-_Robert Frost_

The months passed slowly, uneventfully, for once. The seasons changed, leaves fell gracefully from the trees, landing on the soft earth before the world froze over, snow burying all traces of life. The castle filled with warm bodies and raucous voices, gradually at first, but speeding up exponentially with the passing of time. As spring began to thaw the chill that winter had set into the crevices of the castle, the world outside, and Ginny's bones. She watched silently as the flowers slowly sprung from their winter hiding spot, their yellow faces appearing to greet the world.

The Weasley boys became more restless by the day, by the moment, constantly running from tower to tower, practicing spells, waving enchantments upon one another. The twins had played several pranks on Charlie and Bill, most of which involved ugly boils and stinking feet for weeks on end. Draco laughed as he watched the twins take out their frustrations on others. Practice hadn't resumed, exactly. There were times when Draco thought of things they should know and taught these things to them, but for the most part they passed the months without intense, scheduled practices.

Not that he allowed them to become rusty. No, not at all. But he merely allowed them to gallivant around the castle, unknowingly practicing by themselves, rather than having him constantly drill his 5 teammates.

The twins continued to prank others until the day Harry Potter, Ron, and Hermione returned to Hogwarts.

Nearly all of the Order members occupying the castle, which numbered to about 60, had been in the Dining Hall, including Mr. and Mrs. Weasley, who had returned some weeks before, much to the delight of their children. Fortunately, their voyage had been somewhat uneventful.

Draco had been sitting down to join the Weasley's for a noontime meal when he had heard the massive doors to Hogwarts open. He and the rest of the hall had quieted as they waited with baited breath to see which of their beloved members would round the corner and, perhaps more importantly, who would not.

Draco was shocked into, once again, dropping his sandwich when Harry and his friends rounded the corner. The hall was silent before it burst into cheers. Draco suppressed his slight anger and forced understanding into its place– no matter how many Death Eaters his team took out, Harry would always be the Chosen One. He exchanged a hesitant look with Ginny before they came to the conclusion that it would be better for the Order if they were on good terms with the Golden Boy. Draco quickly licked jelly off a few of his fingers before, as one, they rose and went to greet the trio, followed by the rest of Ginny's brothers.

As the crowd cleared, stepping back to allow room for what the Order felt would likely be a showdown of epic proportions, Draco got a good look at the Trio. He felt fleck of sadistic glee when he saw Harry's nose was even more crooked from where Ginny had punched him. Ron seemed to be exhausted and covered in several layers of blood and mud. Hermione's hair was tangled in a way that suggested someone had either tried to strangle her viciously or fuck her in a pile of dirt. He suspected that it was the first, but really you never could tell.

The crowd stood with bloodthirsty, baited breath. Draco took a minute to wonder what the fuck they were thinking, allowing nine teenagers to brawl in the middle of a dining room. Even worse, the odds were daunting– six against three? It was hardly a fair fight, especially when taking into account how much havoc Draco's team had wreaked throughout the UK. And yet, the adults seemed to be relishing the thought of a knock-down, drag-out brawl. Mr. and Mrs. Weasley were standing in a corner of the room, Mrs. Weasley's eyes wide with fear as Arthur whispered comfortingly in her ear. Draco momentarily wondered what Arthur could possibly be saying to Molly– _Oh don't worry dear, I'm sure they won't hurt them too much._

Draco watched as the three noticed the tension in the room and slipped into a defensive stance. Sparing a glance behind him, he noticed that his team hadn't bothered, which, in the eyes of the adults, made them look civilized. And, admittedly, a bit cocky.

He spared a smile at the three and offered his hand, "Welcome back. Hope your travels were safe. We have some things to show you." Draco inwardly rolled his eyes at his own words; the thought of anyone traveling safely during times like these was preposterous.

Harry nodded once and grabbed Draco's hand, shaking it, "Thanks. They weren't too rough. How about we meet at about six tonight in the library?"

Draco responded in the affirmative as the two groups greeted one another.

It had been a few weeks since the return of Harry Potter and Draco had to admit that things were improving. He had shown the plan of attack to the trio and Hermione had thoughtfully responded that it would be easier to simply bring the fight to the Death Eaters, rather than having a couple hundred mile chase back to Hogwarts.

Draco had agreed.

He had reluctantly begun teaching the Trio and the rest of the Order several simple tricks and charms. It was nothing on the scale of the training he had given his team, but it would be enough.

He hoped.

Every day, after lunch, they would push the tables against the walls and Draco would begin to instruct, his teammates helping to walk through the crowd and make corrections. It comforted his ego that Harry and his friends were always at the practices. It was nice to see them knocked off of the pedestal they didn't necessarily deserve.

All the time, more and more people kept wandering into the castle. Order members. More of them every single day. More than he had ever seen had gathered in the castle. It was inspiring. He had no idea how the message to meet at Hogwarts had gotten out, but it had.

Or perhaps, it was simply the only safe place people could think of to go..

Fred and George had stopped pranking everyone. Draco hadn't been sure why, until he had heard soft moans emanating from their room. He stood in the hallway awkwardly, wondering what to do. He didn't want to witness whatever was going on in the room– and yet he was desperately curious.

He moved to the end of the room, where a book shelf conveniently sat, and pretended to examine the books as the screams became more and more pronounced. He knew from experience that people typically thought they were quieter than they really were when engaging in sexual conquests.

Eventually, the door opened. He heard a soft gasp from the doorway and spun to see Hermione exiting the room, her face burning as she guiltily met Draco's eyes and brought a finger to her lips. Draco nodded to let her know he would keep her secret.

He passed the room on his way out of the hall where he heard a voice talking, sighing in delight, "That was amazing."

Draco thought nothing of it, until he heard another respond, "Absolutely incredible. What a body."

He froze for a split second before hightailing the fuck out of there. He hadn't known before, but both twins had been in the room.

**XXVII**

Draco hadn't experienced many nightmares since he had arrived. Only the occasional dream–or was it a visit from him?– about Blaise. In most of the dreams, Draco was standing once again on the beach, the sun beating down on his face. Once, he mentioned what he had seen Hermione and the twins doing. He hadn't mentioned it to anyone else, not even Ginny, for fear of hurting her family.

Blaise had frowned a bit at this news, explaining, after prompting from Draco, that Hermione was dating Ron Weasley.

Draco nodded, having seen the two conversing quietly, their hands grazing one another's beneath tables, their blushes coloring their cheeks whenever they thought someone had noticed.

Blaise and Draco finally decided that it was not Draco's place to speak of the incident. Draco couldn't help but feel a tiny bit of selfish relief at this– his team was more likely to cohere if the drama was kept to a minimum.

In the late spring, Blaise once again met with Draco.

The two were sitting on the steps of Hogwarts, the landscape deserted, but maintaining its beauty, even more ethereal in its starkness. Draco turned to his friend and, upon seeing a serious expression in Blaise's dark eyes, commented, "I see we are returning to our serious conversations now."

Blaise smiled easily before saying, "Yes. I have some information for you."

"Oh, so now I have a spy? And not only that, but one who is dead?"

"That seems to be the case." Blaise sighed before continuing, "I know you've been searching for a way to get most of the Death Eaters in one place."

Draco raised an eyebrow, curiosity having been sparked, "And, I don't suppose, you know of one?"

His chest puffing out in pride, Blaise's smile glinted, "I do. You don't happen to know what June 5th is, do you?"

Draco's eyes shone as his voice lowered and he whispered, "Voldemort's birthday."

His smile having broken into a full-on, 500 megawatt grin, Blaise continued, "Indeed. But it won't be just any birthday. The dude is supposed to be turning 70 this year." His voice became mischievous, taking on the slight hint of sarcasm that held promises of trouble, "And wouldn't it be a shame to miss the celebration?"

Draco returned the smile, the gears in his head already forming a plan, "A true misfortune. Where will this commemoration be occurring?"

"It just so happens that Daddy Malfoy will be hosting the Dark Lord's birthday bash."

Draco snorted, "It seems it's time to finally reunite with my dear father."

Blaise chimed in, happy to fall back into his old, joking way, "I'm sure he's been sick with worry at your absence."

Draco smiled weakly at that, turning his head to look out at the landscape.

"Oh and Draco, one more thing. I want you to do something for me." Blaise said, his voice suddenly urgent.

"What? I'll do anything." Draco said, as he turned back to his friend and searched the depths of Blaise's dark eyes.

"I want you to take whips with you. It will be poetic." Blaise said, his voice hard.

"What will be poetic?"

"If you use them to avenge my death." Blaise's eyes for once finally showed the pain he felt, the betrayal. Draco was startled– and then immediately scolded himself. Blaise was _dead_. Of course he felt pain because of that. Hundreds of people had watched him die and had done nothing about it.

Draco had done nothing about it.

And so, he nodded in agreement.

**XXVII**

A plan began to form in Draco's head, partially constructed by advice from his best friend and his arch nemesis. He couldn't help but acknowledge that, indeed, all things seem to run in cycles. No matter how hard he tried, there were some people he just couldn't shake out of his life.

His father, for example.

Draco no longer endured the torturous dreams, having learned of his father's curse and provided a countercurse. But he still knew that his business with his father was far from over.

As he mulled over his plan in his head, one thing became absolutely clear– one of them, either he or his father, would die June 5th. Just as neither Harry nor Voldemort could truly live while the other survived.

He had heard of the jumbled prophecy between the Dark Lord and Harry long ago, but not until this moment, as he lay on his bed staring at the crevices between the stones of the ceiling, did he fully understand.

What he and Lucius shared now was not a life, it was an existence. With one out to destroy the other, neither could truly live until the other was killed.

Despite all the hatred he felt toward his father, despite all the torture he had suffered, all the suffering he had witnessed at the hands of Lucius, he still wasn't entirely sure he could do it. It wasn't that he didn't have it in him, he had plenty of rage to fuel the killing curse, but what would it mean if he _did_ kill his father? His own flesh and blood?

If he could destroy something that was supposed to be so sacred, something meant to be preserved and sheltered, did that make him as inherently evil as Lucius?

Once again, Draco's mind wandered to the question of whether or not evil and cruelty could be genetic, passed down through generations and eras by some unheardof, undecoded gene. The Gene of Evil. It surely wasn't a coincidence that nearly _all_ of his ancestors had become Death Eaters.

But he, Draco, wasn't a Death Eater.

So, what did that make him?

Draco sat up from the bed, his ears pricking at the noises of the night– the soft rustling of sheets, the leaves of the tree gentling brushing one another, Ginny's gentle sighs as she slept. He looked down at her sleeping face, gentle and serene, as his mind spun in circles and he tried frantically to make it cease all thought.

It didn't work.

But in his heart, he felt a swell of love as he stared at Ginny's face, her long lashes nearly brushing her cheekbones, her pink lips curled softly in a smile, red locks swirling around her face.

One thing he knew was true, he couldn't be evil as long as he loved a woman like Ginny. Lucius had loved no one, of that Draco was sure. Which brought him to his next puzzle– what to do with Narcissa?

She would be there the night of June 5th, but would she survive? Would Draco order a price on her head as well? No, he would not. He could still remember the woman she used to be, vibrant and alive. Loving. It was Draco's hope, his belief, his _need_ for that same woman to still be in the shell of a human that now occupied her place. And that was the only thing keeping the Order from slaughtering her.

He could still remember the nights she would read him stories, her voice animated and lively. He could recall the times she protected him with her own body from his father's blows. He could still feel the beatings– how strange it is to feel a fist hitting a body while lying beneath it, small and terrified. And he could still recount the times she would tell him how much she loved him, more than anything in the world, she claimed. He had discovered later how much of that was false. Narcissa had learned to love herself, her own survival, more than her son.

But Draco could not find it in his heart to blame her. She had been an innocent victim, forced into compliancy by years of abuse. After nearly suffering the same fate, Draco understood why she had withdrawn into herself, why she had stood, expressionless, as her son had tugged at her skirts, crying for her, why she had ignored the screams from the cellar at night.

Shaking the memories from his head, Draco slipped out of bed, careful not to wake Ginny, and slid down the hall toward the Headmaster's quarters.

It was a well-known fact that Dumbledore had a special soft spot for sweets and so Draco stood outside the staircase to his office, staring at the hideous gargoyle and whispered the names of candies. The password, as it turned out, was 'chocolate frog'.

As he had suspected, an Order meeting was in full swing in the office. Draco felt a brief moment of thankfulness for having enough foresight to have changed from his pajamas into a t-shirt and jeans.

The conversation ceased as soon as he entered the room, making it painfully obvious that the Order felt they could keep secrets from him. Draco smirked at the thought; he knew all their secrets already.

Dumbledore stood from his desk, the heavy wood chair–was it a throne?–scraping on the floor as he did so. "Having trouble sleeping, Draco?"

Draco grinned outwardly, "Always."

Feeling eyes on him, he glanced around the room, spotting most of the head members of the Order–Kingsley Shacklebolt, Molly and Arthur Weasley, Hestia Jones, and a few others. Dumbledore brought Draco's attention back to him with a slight clearing of his throat.

"And what is it that plagues you tonight?"

Draco grinned, deciding to get to the point, and threw himself into one of the chairs in front of Dumbledore's desk, "I've been planning. Two things have come to my attention since I created my last plan for, what I hope is, the Final Battle. First, it would be difficult, but not impossible, to outrun the Death Eaters over two hundred miles. Only a small number of people would be able to make that trip, which would not exactly give us the fighting power we need."

Dumbledore gazed thoughtfully at his chest set, "What is the second?"

"Voldemort's birthday party is being held in Malfoy Manor on June 5th."

His old face snapping upward in surprise– an expression Draco now realized he had never seen on the professor's face– Dumbledore fiddled with the black king of his chess set, "And you're proposing we lead our Army there to attack?"

Swallowing the intimidation down, Draco continued calmly, his voice matter-of-fact, "Yes. We will have more fighting power with our entire army, as well as the element of surprise. Only their best fighters will be at this event, but at the same time this is an invitation list that only includes the most important Death Eaters. These are all of the people who would have a chance of reassembling the Death Eaters if Voldemort were to fall. If we take care of them all in one fell swoop…"

Dumbledore picked up the end of Draco's sentence, "Then the war would end." With a flick of his wrist, he knocked the black king piece over and it slammed into the marble board with a thud that echoed through the room with the weight of that night's discussion.

**XXVII**

The night of June 5th steadily approached as the castle hummed with preparations. Draco busied himself with overseeing the finality of the plans, the preparations, and notifying all of his contacts who were either undercover Order members or enslaved by Voldemort, including Murphy, the werewolf they had met in the woods during their flee across the country.

He spent a lot of time talking to his teammates about the upcoming war and what it could mean.

"Some of us might not survive" Fred said one day from his seat in the library.

"What an encouraging thing to say, two weeks before a war, Fred!" Ginny snapped back from where she perched on a windowsill.

As the two of them went at it, Draco remained silent, mulling over the probabilities, he stayed silent for a moment until he responded, "I think it is unavoidable that the Order will lose some people, but the chance that it will be one of us is extremely unlikely. Look at us, look at what we can do, what we have already done. We've crossed the entire country on foot; together we have killed hundreds of Death Eaters in a few short months. We can handle this."

Later that night, as they lay in bed together, staring at the ceiling, Ginny raised her arm and stared at the brilliant Order logo tattooed on the surface of her skin. Reaching out her other hand, she intertwined her fingers with Draco's.

He turned his head toward her and murmured quietly, "What are you thinking about?"

She sighed quietly before answering, "I was wondering, what will happen if we do die? Is there nothingness? Or is there an afterlife?"

Draco ran a hand through his hair, passing it over his face, "I can't tell you. All I know is that I will love you for the rest of my life. And if there's a life after this one, I'll love you during the next too."

Ginny smiled and whispered, "I love you too."

"I have something to give you, but only if you want it."

She turned toward him again, the sheets rustling, "What is it?"

"It's a promise. It's a tattoo. It would only be as permanent as the flesh I would ink it into, but the promise it holds would last longer than that. I've been trying to think of the right words to say and I think I've got them– 'Socii in scelus. Coniuratis in bellum. Amatores in vita et in mortis.'"

"What does that mean?" She asked, her red hair falling softly over her cheekbone.

"It's Latin for 'Partners in crime. Conspirators in war. Lovers in life and in death."

"It's perfect. Where should it go?"

He smiled, "Where do you want it?"

She thought silently for a moment before pulling the sleeve of her t-shirt over her shoulder to reveal her shoulder blade, "Here."

Draco whispered an incantation before pressing his lips to the skin there. Ginny felt a slight warmth and tingle as the words scrawled across her shoulder in elegant silver lettering.

She then followed the same process, sealing a tattoo on his shoulder with a kiss.

He turned around toward her, grabbing her chin with his hands and leaning in to kiss her. The kiss deepened, Ginny prying open his lips with hers, her tongue searching his mouth. She reached under his warm cotton shirt, feeling the tight muscles under his pale skin before she pulled it off. The rest of their clothing ended up scattered on the floor of their bedroom as Draco entered her, his hands clutching hers. They made love, his body pounding into hers until she felt the earth shatter below her and she saw stars. Her body trembled and goosebumps rose on her skin. Draco was whispering sweet words into her ear as he continued, faster, until he grabbed Ginny to his body, his pupils dilated and he came inside her.

**XXVII**

Draco dumped eleven bows on the wooden table of the library. He watched silently as the eyebrows of every member of his team rose.

"Bows? We're learning archery?" Bill asked hesitantly.

Draco smiled, "Yes. I thought we should probably have some sharp shooters during the attack. This team will be involved in the infiltration, so it's probably not the greatest idea to also use us as sharp shooters, but it would be difficult to teach anyone else in the Order. You can't teach an old dog new tricks, as the muggles say. Ideally, we would be able to fall back a little during the fight, but I doubt that will be possible for all of us. Either way, better safe than sorry."

"So why are there eleven bows instead of six? There are six of us…" Ginny's voice floated across the room from her usual post– the windowsill.

"Oh, no, Draco. You didn't–" Bill began

"He didn't do what?" George asked, looking between his brother and Draco.

"You invited Harry, Hermione, and Ron? Didn't you?" Fred demanded.

Charlie stood, becoming suddenly aggressive, "What the fuck, Draco? You had no right. After what they did to Ginny, to the Order, to _Remus and Tonks_! They tried to destroy us! They betrayed us!"

Draco's voice remained level as he responded; yelling would do nothing to help the situation, "And they've been forgiven. Their reasons were understandable. They are part of the Order, whether or not we like it. I've invited them to learn how to use a bow and arrow because they will be on the battlefield with us. Right now, despite our differences, we have the same enemy. An enemy far greater than any of our own private quarrels. An enemy that must be squashed at any means necessary. I know we don't trust them, I certainly never have, but they won't endanger our lives again, not until our war with Voldemort is over. We can trust them until the sun rises on June 6th, when either we will see the approaching dawn on the winning side of a war or as slaves to the Dark Lord. We will need them at our backs as sharpshooters. You and I will be infiltrating the Manor. We need someone in the trees to watch our backs. There is no one else who can do the job."

"But Ginny–" Fred argued, his face becoming as red as his hair in his fury.

Draco pushed himself off the wall he had been leaning against, walking across the room, "Your sister is strong enough to care for herself. She has healed and improved a lot over the past few weeks. Facing Potter has been the least of her worries, as it is now. You may have noticed she was the only one of you who didn't protest."

All heads in the room turned as one to look at Ginny, who sat calmly at the window, a bemused expression on her face as she watched her brothers, "Draco is right, you know. He's always right about things like this. We need their help. And the last time I had an issue with Harry, I made my feelings clear. The past is the past, our future isn't nearly as certain."

"Yeah, and Harry's face never did recover when you 'made your feelings clear', did it, Gin?" Fred asked, grinning.

"Well, what the fuck do you expect?" Ginny asked; examining the knuckles of the hand she had broken Harry's nose with.

"So who are the other two bows for?" Fred asked.

"I think the answer might surprise you." Draco said, smiling.

**XXVII**

All nine of them stood on a field behind the castle, each an equal distance from the other, each in front of a dummy. On Draco's count, each raised a bow and loosed an arrow. The result was chaos. Some, like Draco's, landed on the dummy. Others, however, ended up in all sorts of places. A few hit trees, some dug up grass, one particularly unskilled archer even broke one of the castle's windows.

"Longbottom!" Draco yelled, "How the hell did you hit a window? The castle is _behind_ us!"

Neville let out a tentative apology before Draco continued with his instruction, "You have to keep your arms steady, your body firm. The entire idea is about stillness and strength. If you're running around like a crazy person, you'll never hit anything. Watch."

Draco stood still, drawing back his bow and taking aim before releasing the arrow, where it sunk directly into the dummy's chest. Deciding to show off a little, Draco rolled onto one knee, loosing another arrow, before standing, flipping over the target, and hitting the dummy three more times before landing.

"Well, you don't always have to be still. But, in order for you to become accustomed to a bow, stillness is a necessity."

Draco walked down the line of people, watching patiently as each took their turn doing their best to follow his instructions. There was some improvement. As he stood behind a young, blonde woman and watched her shoot, he began to realize that maybe this team showed some promise. She sunk her arrow directly into the chest of the dummy.

"Where did you learn to shoot, Luna?"

She turned to face him, a dreamy, faraway look on her smooth face, "The nargles taught me."

Draco smiled politely before continuing down the line. Ginny was also showing some promise, but this he supposed was because she was excellent at nearly everything he threw at her. She was definitely not taught by nargles. Whatever the hell those were.

**XXVII**

The number of days until June 5th steadily decreased, while the sharpshooters consistently improved. Draco created tests, of course, mainly consisting of running through the woods toward some far-off target, or protecting someone's back. He pitted the two teams against one another, he and Ginny always on opposite teams. He didn't tell the others, but it truly made for a more difficult game. He and Ginny knew one another's movements too well and they couldn't always depend on one another. It was more interesting when he had to outthink her.

She often outthought him, however.

Draco realized this immediately when half of his team was dangling from their ankles, suspended in the air by some sort of trap she had laid while his team had been preoccupied with hunting hers.

She smiled victoriously at him while the rest of her team surrounded his, "You know, traps like these are something you never taught us to lay. So I looked up a few easy ones in the books in the library. Hermione helped, of course." Ginny looked to the brunette girl to her right, whose bow was pointed dangerously at one of the cords holding Fred from the ground.

With another superior smile and a nod to her team, Draco heard the sound of bows being drawn, arrows firing and slicing through rope, and the thuds of his defeated team members' bodies as they fell to the forest floor.

The next day, Draco gathered his team in the library and asked each of them to stand against the wall. Taking out his wand, he spent the day attacking each of their minds until they had mastered blocking them. As he did so, he got glimpses into the minds of his teammates. He saw Ginny staring up at Tom Riddle in the Chamber of Secrets and then again staring at her brothers as they waved from the Hogwart's Express and her parents held each of her hands. He saw the first time Bill had met Fleur, during the Triwizard Tournament; he had marveled at her beauty from across the room, not courageous enough to walk up to her and introduce himself; luckily, she _had_ been courageous enough. Draco saw Charlie wrestling dragons in Romania and Fred kissing a lovely dark-skinned girl and George selling Weasley Wheezes to unsuspecting underclassmen and then laughing at the side-effects.

By the end of the day, they were all sweating, exhausted, but they could easily block Draco's mental attacks and hide information from him.

He smiled in satisfaction, knowing that the Dark Lord never hesitated to attack the minds and read the secrets of even his most trusted companions.

**XXVII**

In the days leading up to the battle, there was a feeling of indulgence within the castle. Many of its occupants realized their days may in fact be numbered. And so, much like the man on death row, they spoiled themselves with rich foods, strong drinks, a few hallucinogenic drugs supplied by Fred and George Weasley behind closed doors, and orgasmic sex.

Draco made love to Ginny a few more times before the day finally arrived.

The team met, as usual, in the library to group together once more. They each took their usual places– Ginny at the window, Charlie against a bookcase, Fred and George sprawled on the floor, Draco leaning on a table, and Bill seated in one of the large, leather chairs. Draco debriefed his team on the points of the plan one last time as he handed out glass vials to each member.

"You'll drink it before we attack. Until then, try not to lose it." Draco said as he handed one to each member.

He continued after grabbing a stack of papers off the nearby desk, "Now remember, as the battle begins, I'll send off a flare. That's the cue for the Order to begin knocking down the wards. Fred, I want you to immediately go after Alecto Carrow." As he said this, he handed Fred a picture of his target. "George, you'll be fighting Amycus, her brother. Do you remember what I said about them?" He handed George a picture of Amycus.

"Yeah, they favor the Cruciatus curse, those bitches." Fred yelled.

"Right. Charlie, you'll be with Yaxley. He should be a quick dispatch for you, in which case you'll move onto Rodolphus, who is Bellatrix's husband. He, much like his wife, uses a lot of Unforgiveables, so it may be best to go straight for the kill with him." Draco handed two pictures to Charlie. "And Bill, you'll be facing Fenrir Grayback. Being a werewolf, he enjoys hand-to-hand combat, so he'll try to disarm you. In which case, use your sword as that will keep some distance between the two of you and prevent you from being bitten." Draco finished, handing a photo to Bill.

"After that, it's a free-for-all. Attack and kill any Death Eaters you can spot. Hopefully, if we can quickly kill the most dangerous of the Death Eaters, the Order can handle the rest, which will leave a nice, clean path for Harry to kill Voldemort."

"So who will Ginny be fighting?" George asked, knowing his sister was unlikely to be left out of the fray.

Draco hesitated for a brief moment before replying, "Bellatrix Lestrange."

"Your psycho aunt? Are you serious, Draco?" Charlie exclaimed.

"Yes, I'm serious. I don't know why you four continually doubt her abilities, she's kicked each of your asses plenty of times. She's the only one here, besides me, who even has a chance at killing Bellatrix. I'll be busy with Lucius and I'm confident she can do it."

There was a murmur of dissent, but Draco knew they wouldn't contradict him.

He turned as they left the library, speaking over his shoulder, "And one last thing. Death Eater culture is extremely sexual. Don't be surprised if you find yourself having raunchy sex in a broom closet. Although I wouldn't recommend it, it is not very easy to say no either. You could blow our cover if you do say no."

Then, they headed down to the dining room, where they would explain the plan to the rest of the Order.

Draco was quietly thankful that the Order had already been told a few times what the plan would be as he stepped onto the stage in front of the Order members. He couldn't imagine having to present this idea to them if they hadn't heard it before. It was a risky move and Draco knew it, but he also knew it was the only option.

Thankfully, they seemed to believe him. He calmly explained the calculated strategies of the plan, where every single Order member would be placed, when and where they would enter the Manor, and what the signal to enter would look like.

Behind him, Fred and George simultaneously pulled out their wands, each letting loose a flare into the air to demonstrate _exactly_ what the signal would be. Draco spared a moment to sigh in exasperation before moving on.

He explained how he had trained Hermoine, Ron, Harry, Luna, and Neville as sharpshooters to be waiting in the trees as the Death Eaters were flushed out of the Manor. As he did so, he gestured to his sharpshooters, who were standing behind him on the stage, armed with their bows and arrows, deadly in the black gear he had given them last night.

Secretly, he knew there was little chance of Harry, Ron, and Hermione staying out of the fray for very long, but at least he had taught them to use a weapon, which was essential for their survival.

And their survival was essential for Voldemort's downfall.

But he decided not to mention his ulterior motives. The Order wouldn't understand that.

He added that every Order member would be receiving the black gear he had given to his team in July. The black material, he announced, would allow for flexibility and camouflage in the night. He had asked the house elves to help him create them and they had obliged. With hundreds of house elves at his dispense, it hadn't taken long for the gear to be completed.

Lastly, he reminded the Order exactly why they were setting out on this mission. This time, it wasn't in the hopes of taking out a few Death Eaters. This time, it wasn't even about killing the large power players like Lucius and Bellatrix. This time they were attacking at the heart of the beast, knocking its legs out from under it so they could kill it once and for all.

Draco finished his speech by saying, "We have all gathered here because of separate instances, different injustices that were dealt to us by the hands of Voldemort. We have come here, sought refuge and comfort and comrades, because we have seen a family member die, or had a friend tortured, or suffered any of the innumerable, unspeakable cruelties that Voldemort has cast down upon wizards, witches, muggles, ogres, and other magical creatures. But we are here because we will fight. We will not lie down and die. We will not bow down to him. And we _certainly_ will not allow him to continue." Draco paused, attempting, and failing, to control the rising passion in his voice, "And when morning comes, we will either wake to a free world, where cruelty and tyranny no longer rule, or we will not wake at all. But at least we can say we fought for our freedom because, try as he might, he cannot take our freedom as easily as he took the lives of our loved ones."

**XXVII**

Ginny stood anxiously, dressed in an expensive, lightly colored jeweled gown, her feet pinched by the shoes on her feet, her hair pulled into an elegant twist by the pins she could feel scratching her scalp. Around her stood Fred, George, Bill, Charlie, and Draco, each of them dressed as finely as she was. Fred was bouncing on the heels of his feet in anticipation. Around them, cloaked in darkness, were the members of the Order. She could feel their watchful eyes on her as they sat in the trees. She knew Hermione's arrow was trained on the door of the mansion ahead.

Looking upward, she stared at the great, sloping lawn of Malfoy Manor as she absent-mindedly played with the wire around her wrist. It was surrounded by a massive fence, the wrought iron twisting into an ornate _M_ on the gate. The house–_mansion_, Ginny mentally corrected herself– was indescribably enormous. Made of a beautiful white stone, it towered over everything in its proximity, the roof sloping sharply upward to form menacing spires of dark slate. Large windows covered the house, from which light shone, illuminating the lawns and the pathways leading to the house.

Draco walked toward her, a crooked, nervous grin on his face that made him look boyish, despite the expensive tux he was wearing. She felt her heart crumble a bit as she briefly, irrelevantly, imagined what he must have looked like as a child. His eyes pawed over her body like a cat's, taking in the way the expensive champagne colored fabric clung to her body and shimmered as she moved.

She noticed, unrelatedly, that he needed a haircut. His pale hair had begun to softly curl at the ends.

As she stared at his face, she noticed the lines beneath his eyes. He hadn't been sleeping much lately, but then again, she couldn't particularly blame him. Neither had Harry; Ginny had noticed circles beneath his eyes as well. It struck Ginny then that Draco and Lucius, much like Harry and Voldemort, were tied together by fate. Neither could truly live while the other survived. They were destined to hunt one another. It was as if they were continually, eternally, on opposite sides of time, staring one another down until the time came for one to die.

They continued to look at one another for a moment longer before Draco spoke, "So this is it. What we've been working toward."

Ginny returned a half-smile, what could she really say? "I suppose it is. Are you nervous?"

His face looked weary at that as he looked away, staring at the house, "In some ways. I'm not nervous about facing him. I feel resigned. I just want to get it over with." He wasn't relishing the thought of murdering his father, no matter how justified the action may be.

"In what ways are you nervous?"

His mercury eyes flicked back to her face, studying every detail as if he could memorize it and take the image with him to the afterlife as he brought his hand up to cup her cheek, "I'm nervous I won't see you again."

Ginny's voice softened, "I'm afraid of that too, especially now that–" She broke off, her voice faltering. After a moment, she continued, "I love you."

"I love you too." He said it with such certainty, without flinching or embarrassment at the prying ears of the Order, Ginny felt her heart warm.

Feeling a sudden sense of urgency like an hourglass running out of sand, Ginny grabbed his hand, feeling the rough calluses as she stared into his eyes earnestly, "Remember what Lucius' weakness is– his arrogance. He'll want to brag while he fights you. He'll be distracted. That's your only chance."

He nodded, "And you have to attack Bellatrix. No one else stands a chance against her. But keep in mind that she's psychotic. Those years in Azkaban had an ill effect on her mind. Don't insult the Dark Lord in front of her, it drives her into a rage and she has no qualms about using The Unforgivables."

Ginny nodded silently, taking it all in before she leaned in and gave Draco a quick kiss. As she did so, she couldn't help thinking that there might not be more of those in the future.

He must have been thinking the same thing because he wrapped his hands around her waist, one tracing up her back to twist in her hair as he deepened the kiss. His lips opened hers as he roughly crushed her to him, his hands feeling every curve through the thin, jeweled fabric of her dress. He then slowed the kiss, leaning back a little to press his forehead against hers, staring at her one last time.

Draco turned to the rest of his team and watched them for a moment. Charlie was studying the sharp knives that aligned his jacket. Fred and George were cracking jokes with one another about the size of the mansion and what it must overcompensate for on Lucius' part. Bill had taken one of his knives from his jacket and was cleaning his nails, resting against a nearby tree as casually as if he were at home, rather than about to invade Malfoy Manor and, hopefully, end a reign of terror and bloodshed.

Feeling his eyes on them, they each looked up and Draco gave a single nod.

In unison, the six pulled vials out of their sleeves and drank the polyjuice potion given to them by Snape. Immediately, Ginny felt her body twisting into that of another person, her hair became a lighter, more honey-blond color, her face rounder, and, thankfully, her shoes pinched less.

She turned to see her companions. The majority of them were what most people would describe as tall, dark, and handsome, but at the same time not very remarkable. The fifth, however, was blond. Draco's hair had turned into a darker, more golden shade, his shoulders becoming broader, his chin squarer.

_Definitely remarkable_, Ginny thought. Though she couldn't help thinking that she found Draco more attractive as himself.

Last, they quickly went over names, agreeing to keep it simple. They each took the first letter of their middle name and created a name beginning with that. And thus, Draco, whose middle name was Lucius, became Landon.

Ginny became Meaghan.

Bill named himself Archer.

Charlie became Hector.

Fred was Gideon.

George insisted he be called Balthazar.

"All right, all right, I'll settle for Balty for short." George said when dissent erupted at his idiotic name choice. The dispute was short-lived. Draco ended the discussion by admitting that Balthazar was a highly respected family name among the Death Eater circles.

As they began their walk toward the Manor, Ginny looked around at her companions. Their features were perfectly aligned, teeth whitened, hair painstakingly trimmed. She noticed with some satisfaction and a slight shock of surprise that they looked like the offspring of the Death Eater elite. They would fit right in.

A guard at the gate, whose face was twisted on one side by an ugly scar, stopped them, "Password?"

Stepping forward, Draco smoothly replied, "Pureblood."

Ginny smirked a bit at that, the Death Eaters certainly hadn't had to reach far for that one.

They stepped through the ornate doorway to see an elegantly decorated entryway. Draco moved confidently through the labyrinth of rooms until he reached the grand ballroom, stepping onto a balcony that over looked the dancers below. Ginny knew he was scoping out the room.

She looked around with shock as she noticed the décor. The room was alight with vibrant colors and light– she'd been expecting something more akin to a haunted house or an underground torture chamber, complete with cobwebs, cold stones, and decaying bodies. Chandeliers of hanging crystal floated in the air, a white marble staircase led down from the balcony they stood on to the ballroom floor, which was made of the same marble. Great bay windows lined the far side of the room, framed by deep purple velvet curtains. Doors were thrown open between one set of windows and the next, where a stream of people was constantly moving. Tables and bubbling fountains of champagne were set to the left, where many Death Eaters were socializing. Behind them, an orchestra played. And to the right, against a wall, was a throne, ornate and richly carved of gold and decorated with red velvet. On it sat the Dark Lord, his face snakelike, his robes a rich black trimmed in dark satin, his wand clutched nonchalantly in his hand, as if he had forgotten it was there.

But Ginny and Draco knew better. He wouldn't hesitate to attack anyone in this room.

Behind the Dark Lord, trapeze artists swung slowly through the air, tumbling around on hanging silk fabric. Ginny's eyebrows raised a fraction; it was like a dismal, perverted circus.

As a group, they moved away from the railing of the balcony and descended the stairs, separating at the bottom to cover more area. Ginny wandered around the room, resisting the urge to head straight to the champagne fountains in an attempt to feel less awkward, as she usually had at school dances. She mentally scolded herself; she had a job to do. Eventually, she felt someone's eyes on her. A Death Eater beckoned her over to him. Resisting the temptation to simultaneously roll her eyes and throw up, she sensually slunk over to him. His hair was dark and long, his lips full and eyes bright with color and probably liquor– despite his Death Eater status, she begrudgingly admitted that he was attractive.

He pulled her onto his lap, gently speaking in a low voice as he twirled a piece of her now-honey-blonde hair around his finger.

"Hello lovely, what's your name?" He slurred in her ear.

"Meaghan. What's yours?" She responded, not without feeling disgust.

"They call me Bradley." He said as his hands worked their way up her body, groping her breasts.

She suddenly had the mental image of herself whirling around, kicking over Bradley's chair, and stabbing him in the throat, hopefully pinning him to the back of the chair, but immediately refrained. It was too early. The perimeter probably wasn't secure yet and Voldemort was certainly not close enough. She couldn't do anything to blow her cover or make Bradley question her.

He must have felt her tense in his arms because he whispered in her ear, "I think someone needs to be loosened up." And his hands traveled farther south, past her navel, to rub a sensitive bundle of nerves.

Her eyebrows shot up in surprise as she looked around, but no one seemed to be paying attention to them. Well, almost no one.

Across the room, she saw a golden-haired man staring at her. Draco. She gave him a look of panic. At that moment, a red haired woman slunk up to him and nibbled sensuously on his earlobe. They were in the same position. There was nothing they could do.

Draco, however, was playing along. He grabbed the woman around the waist, his hand drifting toward her ass, which he gave a light pinch, before being dragged by the woman to a far corner to the room.

Ginny remembered his words: _Don't be surprised if you find yourself having raunchy sex in a broom closet. Although I wouldn't recommend it, it is not very easy to say no either. You could blow our cover if you do say no._

Damn, she thought. What could she do?

She had to play along.

She stood up and turned, straddling the man. Luckily, her weapons, which were attached to her thighs, didn't hit him. She couldn't help but think that this was better than letting him rub her.

Flipping her hair to one side, she began to kiss his neck, feeling his arousal against her as she did. His hands moved to her ass, grabbing it and spreading her cheeks apart as he groaned.

Ginny almost pushed him away in disgust.

"Come on, lovely, why don't we go find some privacy?" He whispered in her ear, the smell of whiskey floating to her nose.

_Uh-oh_, she thought. She was in trouble if this man led her away from the ballroom. She couldn't kill him without having her cover blown.

She let him lead her away, while her mind pondered the question of how to extract herself from this situation. She found herself in a bathroom as big as her room at Hogwarts, its floors tiled and glistening.

He sat her upon the counter, kneeling down as he lifted her dress and began to lick her pussy, his tongue wetting her southern pair of lips and sliding his tongue inside her.

She moaned in satisfaction. Despite her disgust, she had to admit it felt great. He dragged her to the floor where he sat on his knees, unzipping his pants and bringing her down onto his cock.

His hands on her waist, he lifted her up off his cock before bringing her back down, repeating the motion as he groaned. He pushed her onto the ground, holding her wrists as he continued to pump in and out of her. His movements became faster and then jerky as he exploded inside her.

He then flipped her over, forcing her onto her hands and knees as he hardened his cock again and began forcing his way into her back door. It was then that she saw the wire around her wrist.

Realization sunk in.

She wasn't the victim any more.

But he was about to be.

She had a plan.

Ginny spun around quickly, the wire around her wrist coming undone. She snapped it at him and it whistled through the air, slicing a gash on his face.

"Okay, okay, lovely, you don't like anal. I get it!" He yelled, his hands covering the wound on his face made by her whip.

She smirked, reaching down to grab her wand and a knife from a sheath at her thigh. It was amazing he hadn't seen it before. She was armed to the teeth, with more weaponry than most armies. He must have been too drunk.

Her high heels slapping on the tile floor, she walked slowly toward him, "That isn't it, _lovely_" She said in a mocking tone, "I'm part of the Order. And you're about to die."

Shock registered on his face just as Ginny knelt on his chest, one hand dropping her wand to cover his mouth– he was about to scream for help, she knew it – and the other carving a gruesome red line across his neck as she slit his throat.

She stood up, grabbing her wand and sidestepping the blood; she didn't want to get her dress dirty.

With a quick spell, she reduced his body to ashes and flushed it down the toilet and then scrubbed the floor clean of blood. When she was done, she put her wand and knife back in their places before taking a second to collect herself. She looked in the mirror, not a hair out of place. Smiling with satisfaction, she left the bathroom.

As she entered the ballroom, her eyes immediately locked on Draco, who was dancing flirtatiously with another woman– this one a brunette. She crossed the room to where he was, dodging dancing and kissing couples. She tapped the shoulder of the brunette, asking to cut in, and smiled as the other woman left.

Draco raised one eyebrow questioningly, an unspoken question: _Why aren't you scouting out the room?_ But he only said, his tone casual, "What happened to your dance partner?" One of his arms went around her waist softly as the other held her hand.

Ginny surreptitiously glanced around for eavesdroppers and, finding none, looked straight at Draco, "I killed him."

Only a slight jerk of Draco's hands let her know he was surprised and a little upset, "May I ask why you did such a thing?" He led them around the room, circling, passing other dancing couples.

She was looking him straight in the eyes again, searching his face for his reaction, as she replied, "He was having sex with me. I thought there wasn't a way out. _You said there wasn't a way out._ And then it was over and he was wanting a round two and I realized that there was. I just had to get rid of the evidence." He spun her, suddenly, pushing her with ease away from him, under his arm, as she gracefully twirled.

She had expected something from Draco, some irritation, anger, maybe even tears, but he was stoic. It was then that it dawned on her– Draco knew this would happen. Obviously, he knew it would happen to someone, but more specifically, he knew it would happen to her and that she would bring death upon the person who did that to her.

He continued with his conversational tone, "So how did you get rid of the evidence?"

"I flushed him. So you knew it would happen to me, didn't you?"

He smirked a little at that, he hadn't expected her to realize the truth so quickly. He dipped her, holding her a few inches above the ground as he whispered in her ear, "I did know. People always seem to want to victimize you–Voldemort, Harry, Crabbe, Goyle, random muggers on the street, every Death Eater in the world. But I've given you the skills you need to fight back. And I knew you would." He brought her back up from the dip, "So you turned him to ashes before flushing him, I presume?"

Ginny nodded in the affirmative, right as a loud horn blew.

She looked around startled as Draco commented, "Oh good, it's time to cut the cake– and for the festivities to _really_ begin."

As she saw the glint of mischief in his eye, her heart began to pound. This was it.

The crowd gathered around Voldemort and his throne, Draco and Ginny moved to the outskirts of the crowd. She could spot Fred to her left and, next to him, George. The Order had them surrounded and they didn't even know it.

With a sense of horror, she felt the poly juice potion wearing off.

The crowd sang some horridly off-key rendition of Happy Birthday and as Voldemort blew out the candles– something Ginny had never imagined seeing– Draco sent a curse flying through the crowd. It hit a random Death Eater, killing him on the spot.

Pandemonium broke loose.

The Death Eaters didn't know yet who the enemy was. Draco dashed to the nearby bay windows and sent out the flare as Ginny and the rest battled their way through the crowd to find their targets.

Voldemort sat on his throne, watching the fight with a sort of detached amusement.

People were running everywhere; she was being bumped from every side by Death Eaters.

And then, the windows were smashed in.

**XXVII**

Draco breathed a sigh of relief as the Order ran through the doors, looking like the night itself embodied in their black gear. They had the place surrounded on all sides. Outside, he could hear the screams of Death Eaters as they ran into the arrows of the sharpshooters.

He heard the howling of Murphy's pack as they ran through the door, in partial wolf form, the multiple tattoos on their arms gleaming.

He sprinted through the crowd, searching for his father. He passed Snape, dressed in his usual black attire, viciously fighting a Death Eater, who seemed surprised to discover Snape's status as a double agent.

Draco continued searching through the chaos, ducking wayward spells and knives. He had seen Lucius earlier in the night, playing–more gently than usual – with a young woman.

There.

He spotted him out of the corner of his eye– a flash of silver hair much like his own.

He skidded to a stop in front of his father, blocking his exit. A body lay behind Lucius' feet.

"Draco." Lucius drawled, "What an unpleasant surprise. I suppose you planned all this?" Lucius asked, waving his hand in the air to demonstrate that 'this' referred to the chaos in the background.

Draco didn't respond, refusing to be drawn into his father's game of wordplay. Instead he reached into his jacket and pulled out his wand.

Lucius' eyebrows rose fractionally, before he pulled his wand out of his snakehead cane.

They began to duel, curses flying through the air, an occasional stray one shattering a chandelier. Out of the corner of his eye, Draco saw Harry Potter walking toward the Dark Lord, Ron and Hermione behind him, their bows drawn.

_It's working,_ he thought to himself.

Lucius and Draco circled one another, perfectly attuned to each other's movements, much like the dancers who had occupied the floor not moments before.

He saw Narcissa run by behind Lucius, her normally impassive face twisted in fear as she headed for the bay windows. He had asked the Order to not harm her.

She had only been another victim of his father.

Lucius hit Draco with a curse, giving him a bloody nose. He immediately abandoned the attempt of wiping the blood away; it wouldn't stop. There was a copper taste in his mouth as his blood filled it.

Retaliating, he set his father's arm on fire when Lucius was too slow to block it.

Draco swiped his wand across the air, creating an invisible wall between his father and himself, in order to escape the Cruciatus curse. He glanced upward and, seeing what he wanted, he immediately, he let the wall fall down. To his left, he saw Charlie kill Yaxley with an arrow to the heart before drawing another arrow and stepping softly toward Rodolphus, his back turned as he battled another Order member.

Draco took one small step back, knowing Lucius would follow. When he did, Draco sent a curse at Lucius and simultaneously flung a dagger into the air.

The dagger cut the rope of a chandelier that was hanging above Lucius.

Lucius quickly raised his head and, seeing the falling chandelier, swiped his wand through the air.

Draco took this moment to throw another knife– directly at his father's heart.

Lucius stepped to the side, but not quick enough. It sliced through the muscle on his arm, rendering it nearly useless, before burying itself in the staircase behind him.

Draco smirked momentarily, at which Lucius snarled, "Why're you so happy? You missed my heart, son."

"Did I?" Draco asked, as if forgetting, before the dagger, which he had cursed, exploded behind Lucius.

Marble flew everywhere. Large chunks hitting Lucius in the back and sending him to his knees, his wand scattering across the floor. Draco stepped on it, smashing it to pieces with his expensive shoes. In the corner of his eye, George ran a blade through Amycus Carrow's body and then jerked it loose, running through the crowd and taking down five, six, seven more Death Eaters as he went.

Stepping forward, Draco reached out and put his wand to his father's forehead, his lips forming the Killing Curse when Lucius' fist smashed into his face.

He fell to the ground, knocked over by the power of his father's fist and rage, before his father was on him, beating his face.

Draco looked around frantically for his wand; it was nowhere to be seen.

Lucius reached into his own coat and produced a glinting, evil-looking knife, gripping his son's face, "You've always valued your own beauty too much son. Vanity is a sin, didn't your mother teach you that?" Lucius growled, "How about I adjust that face for you?"

Draco tried to jerk his face away from his father's grip. It was futile. He felt the cold point of the blade slice his face open, slashing his cheek as warm blood spilled over it. He turned his head to the left, ensuring his father wouldn't cut out his eyes. The blood ran down over his face, blurring his sight, but through it he watched as Bill, his face bleeding, having been carved by Grayback's claws, sweep his sword through the air and behead the werewolf.

Draco struggled, his fist connecting with his father's jaw, knocking the man backwards. Draco quickly shed his coat, rolling his sleeves up as he grabbed several knives from the lining of his jacket.

His father was standing, knife still in hand. The two faced one another, circling like lions. Lucius was the first to move, striking outward toward Draco and then feinting to the right before swinging his knife toward his son's rib cage.

Draco twisted in response, but felt flesh tearing as his father sliced open the muscles on his abdomen.

Draco saw stars. The pain was so great; it was something he had never imagined. He had only experienced pain like this in the dreams Lucius had tortured him in.

Gritting his teeth, Draco stood up, each of his hands gripping a dagger. He ran toward his father, kicking him in his injured arm. Lucius swung out with the dagger, but Draco fell flat against the floor. He sprung lightly back up, kicking in one of his father's knees and hearing the bones crunch. He kicked his father's knife out of his hand as Lucius fell to his knees.

Over Lucius' head, Draco saw Fred pass by, battling Alecto as she backed into a corner, trying to retreat. Sparks flew from their wands like grotesque, deadly fireworks.

Draco pressed the blade against his father's neck, pausing for a moment to remember all of the people he had seen tortured at his father's hand– Hope and countless others– before he whispered the words that had begun this entire journey, "Goodbye, Father". He felt his knife slice through the flesh and muscle of his father's neck and then they both, father and son, slumped to the ground, their blood mixing together on the stark white marble floor.

As Draco's eyes fell closed, the crowd parted, showing him the other side of the room. Ginny stood over Bellatrix's form, the whip coming down like heavenly fire. He smiled, if anyone could be an avenging angel, it was Ginny.

And then, he succumbed to the darkness.

**XXVII**

Ginny felt the whip whistle through the air and slice through flesh. Bellatrix lay on the floor, screaming, her back resembling a slab of chopped meat. Ginny had simply wanted to kill her and be done with it, but then she had remembered. She had remembered Neville's parents, had remembered Draco's face as he'd told her the story of Blaise's death, had remembered the look in Draco's eyes as he handed the whip to her before they left Hogwarts.

Bellatrix had to pay and, though she didn't like the idea that _she_ had to be the one to extract revenge, it had to be done.

It had been a violent fight. Ginny had utilized every move she had ever been taught, every kick, flip, punch, and knife throw. It had ended with Ginny bleeding in several areas, but triumphantly on top of Bellatrix before she brought out the whip.

"Do you know why this is happening, Bellatrix?" Ginny asked; her teeth clenched. She held the whip threateningly above her head, poised to let more pain rain down on the woman below her.

Bellatrix snarled in reply, "Fuck you, you little bitch!"

Ginny sighed internally and let the whip hit Bellatrix again. When would enough be enough?

She continued until the only noise Bellatrix made was a soft whimpering sound. Around them, the battle raged on, but Ginny took in none of that.

She repeated her question, this time with less patience, "Do you know why I'm whipping you? Do you remember?"

"Yes" Bellatrix hissed like a snake, the S elongated by her pain. "The boy," She gasped, "The boy we made Draco kill."

Ginny clapped her hands sarcastically, the sound lost in the thunder of the battle around them; it really shouldn't have been that hard to remember what kid she had killed.

Then, Ginny lifted her head, feeling eyes on her.

Draco.

Across the room, she saw as his head fell to the ground, landing in a pool of blood.

Sending the Killing Curse toward Bellatrix, Ginny quickly killed the evil woman, letting her die alone in her own pool of blood as Ginny sprinted across the floor, pushing past fighting Order members and Death Eaters alike.

Her heart was pounding, she felt as if she would fragment into a thousand pieces if she didn't reach his side.

She skidded to a halt next to him, pulling his head into her lap and cradling it as she wiped the blood off his face. She looked him up and down, her heart stopping when she saw the giant bloodstain on his white shirt, growing larger by the minute.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck!" She whispered, looking around for something to help.

Behind them, she heard a rumble, like more marble being destroyed, and then the roar of victory. She didn't know which side had won; she didn't care. She could only look at the dying boy in her arms.

She began hysterically screaming, "Draco! Wake up!" Her voice began to crack with tears "Wake up!" She slowly pet his hair, moving it back from his forehead, and whispered, "Please, don't leave me."

And then, she heard a cry and felt water landing on her face.

She raised her head and saw a bright flash of color above her head, much like the vibrant tattoo on her arm.

**XXVII**

Draco awoke with a start. He sat up, his chest protesting vehemently, but he ignored it. He was in a familiar white room, the sheets beneath him itchy.

The infirmary of Hogwarts.

"Hey, mate! You're awake!" Draco turned his head to see Fred smiling from the bed next to him, part of his head wrapped in gauze.

"How long have I been out?" Draco asked groggily, looking around for a clock.

Fred thought for a moment, "Well, you passed out at the battle– which was a surprise, by the way, I thought you were indestructible. So, you've been out for about a day."

Realization struck. "Oh, right." Draco's next words were hesitant, "How am I alive, by the way?"

"You're not." Fred answered, his face grave.

Draco's eyes widened and his heart plummeted– until a voice interrupted.

"Fred! You're not supposed to make dead jokes in a hospital! How many times has mom told you that?" Ginny yelled from her cot, her arm in a sling and neck bandaged.

"He's just messin' with you, Drake. You're alive." Charlie called from another bed. "Although you did give us quite a scare. Your insides were practically falling out, until Fawkes came along and cried on you. And then you were all stitched up, good as new."

For once, Draco was lost for words. But only momentarily, "But I thought he only helped those who were pure at heart? Like Potter."

Bill took this time to chime in, "Well, you must be the purest motherfucker I've ever met, because he wept over you like he was at his own mother's funeral."

Draco took these words in, and registered what they meant. There was no gene of evil. He had overcome his father's legacy.

"How many of us are there in here?" He asked, changing the subject.

"You're just lucky you got a bed," Charlie said, "Poor George is out in the hall. There were so many injuries– most of them minor– that they couldn't fit us all in the infirmary."

"And how many dead?"

It was Ginny's turn to speak again, her voice quiet, "Nearly all of the Death Eaters were captured or killed. But the Order had a few casualties as well."

It was then that Draco saw the pained expression on her face, "Who?" He demanded.

She began listing off names, many of them didn't even register with him, but a few did.

Luna Lovegood.

Neville Longbottom.

Ron Weasley.

Kingsley Shacklebolt.

Hestia Jones.

Molly Weasley.

Arthur Weasley.

Narcissa Malfoy.

Draco felt a pang in the heart for each name. He hadn't known Neville, Luna, Kingsley, Hestia, or Mr. and Mrs. Weasley very well. In fact, he had hated Ron. But he had never wanted any of them to die. They had died following him.

And as for his mother, he felt the small spark of hope at saving her disappear. He had been hoping that one day he could find a way to return her to the loving woman she once was, if not for him, then one day for his children. To show them the love she had so briefly shown him.

He turned on his side, ignoring the rest of the team as he briefly mourned his mother.

**XXVII**

The days after the war passed slowly, full of funerals and piecing the story together.

Harry had killed Voldemort after a long battle while the rest of the team had separately fought their assigned Death Eaters. Ron had died by Voldemort's hand; he had struck out at him while dying, as a last way to hurt Harry Potter.

Molly and Arthur Weasley had died beside one another. He was struck down by a Death Eater during battle and she was killed while trying to protect his body.

Luna Lovegood had been killed by Yaxley, who was then killed by Charlie.

Neville had never made it inside the ballroom– a Death Eater had killed him when running away. The Death Eater was never caught.

Kingsley had been dueling three separate Death Eaters when one had snuck up on him from behind and slit his throat.

And Narcissa had been killed accidentally while trying to flee. Whether it was Death Eater or Order member was never discovered.

Draco had just returned from his mother's funeral, throwing his jacket on the chair and sitting on the bed with his head in his hands, when Ginny had busted into the room, looking frightened.

He had immediately stood, grabbing a knife from under the bed and looking past her for any lurking danger asking her, "What's wrong?"

She had smiled kindly, sadly, and grabbed his hand, taking the knife away, and leading him to the bed.

She had sat down softly on the bed, as if afraid it were going to jump up and bite her.

Draco was beginning to freak out, "What's going on, Gin? Did someone hurt you? If they did, I'll kill them!" He started to move toward the door again until she grabbed his hand.

"No, Draco. The problem isn't out there. It's in here." She gestured toward her stomach.

At first, he didn't understand.

Then, he did. All of the color left his face and he said quietly, "Are you sure?"

When she nodded, he knew he had to ask, "Are you sure it's mine? You had sex with that guy before the battle…"

She exhaled as if she'd been holding her breath, "I knew before the battle."

Draco shot up from where he sat, the reality of the situation kicking in all too soon, and he bolted out the room, the door falling shut behind him, leaving Ginny alone in the room, her hand still on her belly.

**XXVII**

Thanks for reading. Please **review**. And stay tuned for the **Epilogue**.

Shit, I spent a lot of time on that chapter. I think it's the most well thought-out and connected one I've ever written. Hope you guys liked it.

-Katy


	28. Epilogue

So, this is it. The epilogue. I hope everyone enjoys it. Originally, I had a letter talking about how this one reader _continues_ to anonymously flame me, but I decided not to go out like that. Alas, I would like to thank everyone for their support and kindness and everlastingly interesting thoughts. I'll be honest, the reviews were inspiring. Sometimes I felt like quitting, but then I'd get a review from someone begging me not to quit and I'd think, _"Ok, one more chapter."_ A lot of the time, these reviews gave me ideas of where to go next. And so, here we are. You all shine like little stars in my own personal galaxy. I love you guys.

Also, I'm writing a book (a lot of which was inspired by this fic). So I'll post back on here if I ever decide to publish it.

I wish all of you the best in life.

-Katy

Epilogue

"_It's so hard to forget pain, but it's even harder to remember sweetness. We have no scar to show for happiness. We learn so little from peace."_

― _Chuck Palahniuk, Diary_

Achilles walked proudly down the cobblestone street, his features aristocratically beautiful, much like his father's, but warmed by the fire of his mother's brown eyes. His sister, Blaise, toddled beside him, her arms thrown out to each side as she walked an imaginary tight rope, what was in reality the curb of the sidewalk. Her red hair was pulled into a high ponytail, her knobby knees and untied shoelaces causing her to trip as she walked.

He had been named after a great warrior, for the fact that he was born during a time of distress and that the mere thought of his possible existence had given his parents the strength to rise against it. They had often thought of having children, of making the world a better place for their future sons and daughters, during their darkest days. Days spent camping on forest floors and running from death. The possibility of his birth had been like a light leading them and giving them strength.

He had given them the strength to recover after the final battle.

She had been named for a fallen comrade, someone taken too early from life. She was giving a second breath to the name.

Neither of them knew this. They didn't know that their last name, Black, shouldn't truly be their name. Their father had taken it after his mother's death, as a testament to the love she had once shown him, the fact that she had been the only parent he had ever truly had, however briefly. The Malfoy name would never overcome the stain left by Lucius, no matter the deeds his son had done.

The two children lived in a world of safety and warmth, one their parents had fought valiantly for.

Both Ginny and Draco had begun working as Aurors in the Strategy department. Their legacy had allowed them to begin work without finishing school. Ginny also volunteered her time at St. Mungo's Hospital, doing her best to utilize her healing skills. She spent her days much as she had during the war– surrounded by plans and dying people. But this time, she felt her own strength, she felt the hope she gave as she healed others. Ginny no longer relied upon any one else. The Order still lived, run by Dumbledore who, if the rumors were true, would be succeeded by Draco. The Infernal Division had continued to live, both through the Order and the Auror department. With Draco in both the Order and working as an Auror, the two organizations had found a way to work together and coexist peacefully, something that had been impossible when Voldemort had taken over the Ministry. Now, both the Order and Aurors trained young people to be part of the Infernal Division. The Infernal Division now focused on espionage– spying on has-been Death Eaters and other possible threats. They had deep-cover missions, most of which were strategized by Draco and Ginny themselves. Of course, the Aurors and Order dictated which people would be sent where and the reason for their mission.

The small family was walking through a city, down the same road Ginny and Draco had fled on during a night of panic. On their way to see Nana, their great-grandmother, and Uncle Sev, as Snape had come to be known by his adoring god-children.

Ginny wrapped her hand around Draco's, their Order tattoos gleaming in the sunlight. On the nape of their necks, another tattoo shone- it simply said Inferno, knotted into an infinity symbol. It was a tattoo borne by all of the survivors of the Final Battle- a tribute to the fact that they had traveled to the pits of hell, fought the greatest of evils, and lived. And yet, the fight would always continue. Evil always lurked. And thus, the Order was still running.

Draco remembered the time Ginny had told him she was pregnant. He had been scared shitless and had promptly run out of the room- and then back in, realizing he was being an ass, to grab her face between his palms and kiss her, before sprinting out of the room again- to seek advice from Snape, who had told him the obvious, he had to man up. Draco had already known this. He'd gone to ask the man to be the godfather of his children. Snape was the only remnants of family Draco had left, aside from kindly Rosemary. In the event of Draco's death, Snape, along with Ginny's remaining brothers, would preside as fathers over their children and teach Achilles how to be a man.

And then, he had returned and proposed to Ginny. Their wedding hadn't been big or lavish, but their closest friends and family had been there and that had been enough. After all of the exhilaration and fear, loss and triumph of the past months, neither of them wanted the drama attached to a large ceremony. They wanted to keep their loved ones close, rather than in a sea of faces as they said their vows. As Ginny had walked down the aisle toward him, Draco couldn't help but feel that he was the luckiest bastard in the world. Everything he had ever wanted, had ever dreamed and hoped for, was in this beautiful, fierce woman. His entire world was held in her eyes, his being in her soul. They were like two parts of a whole, fitting together perfectly. She had looked into his eyes and smiled at him, her red hair gleaming against the white of her dress, and in that look, Draco had seen his entire world. He had felt lost, afloat with nowhere to go, before he had met her. And now, he had something to anchor him to this world, a sun around which his entire life beautifully revolved.

The first time he held Achilles in his arms, Draco had sworn to protect the child fiercely, with all the strength he had. He hadn't known he could be so scared and love something so fiercely at the same time. Achilles had seemed so tiny and fragile but, like his namesake, had turned out to be anything but. Draco had watched with pride as his son grew, learning to walk and to speak, to catch a ball and to ride a bike. He had been there for every milestone of Achilles' life, helping his son when it was needed, but allowing him to learn on his own as well. Perhaps he wasn't the best father in the world, but Draco knew, after seeing all the shitty relationships that existed, he had to be pretty damn close.

And then, Blaise had come along and Draco hadn't known how much his heart could swell at the sight of his beautiful baby girl. She had him wrapped around her little finger from the moment she opened her silver-blue eyes and smiled at him. She had smiled at him as if she had known- how spellbound he was, how he was completely under her control, how he would do anything for her. He knew he owed it to his long-gone best friend to name his child after him. He'd spoken to him in a dream- Zabini had seemed pleased and had admitted that Blaise made for an interesting girl's name, after feigning insult about Draco's first child not being named after him.

He still received visits from his friend, even now, more than five years after his death. Draco was still relieved every time he saw his best friend's face– still seventeen after all these years. It was probably selfish, but Draco felt as if he would die if he ever truly had to let go of Blaise.

They occasionally saw the remaining members of their team. Neville, Luna, and Ron had died during the battle.

After Ron's death, Hermione had fallen into a depression- one only George could save her from. They had been dating for the past couple of years and Ginny said George planned on marrying her. Hermione had begun working at the Ministry in the Research Department, while George worked as an Auror. He was still a member of the Infernal Division, his missions often sending him to faraway lands. The Death Eaters had executed Hermione's parents anyway, despite her efforts to get them back. There was no honor among the Death Eaters, after all. It had been childishly naive for Hermione to have thought they would spare her parents.

Harry had become the new Minister of Magic- and the youngest one in history. Draco suspected that it was partly Harry's influence that had allowed them to obtain jobs as Aurors. The majority of wizards didn't know that he had betrayed the Order. After some deliberation, the Order had decided not to slander the good name of Harry Potter and instead to quietly expel him from the organization and let him lead the wizarding world. Draco had been one of the deciding factors, as well as Ginny, in the duo's fate. Their argument had been that, although Hermione and Harry had made a grave error that had cost countless lives, they had done so with a gun to their head. Harry had receded into his office after the death of his best friend and married Cho Chang, fading into as much anonymity as possible, his voice only heard when a new law was passed into effect. He hadn't contacted any of the Order since. It seemed to Draco that Ron's death had been the last Harry could bear to witness. Both he and Hermione had been pardoned for their betrayal of the Order due to the dire circumstances, but would never be allowed membership to it again.

Fred had married Angelina Johnson, the lovely dark-skinned woman Draco had seen him kissing during their Occlumency lessons. She was one of the people they had freed from the dungeons of Malfoy Manor on June 5th. It seemed that Fred hadn't known she had been captured. He had begun working at Hogwarts, teaching Defense Against the Dark Arts. Apparently, he utilized a few of Draco's techniques, but not the ones that focused on building a small army. Fred said the children often asked him about the war, having heard of him from their parents and history professor. He never responded to their questions, refusing to relive those times. He and Angelina had been trying to have children, but were so far unsuccessful. Draco suspected her time at Malfoy Manor might have rendered her infertile.

Charlie was still single, enjoying his life while he wrestled dragons in Romania and undoubtedly got laid most nights by beautiful foreign women. Once a year, he visited Hogwarts to teach children about dragons, visited with his brothers, and dodged the questions thrown at him by students about the war.

Bill and Fleur had returned to their cottage. Soon after, Fleur had given birth to a beautiful girl- Veronique. Bill had become the history professor at Hogwarts, being old enough to compartmentalize his time at war better than his siblings. He sacrificed his inner pain for the students- giving them the knowledge of what it was truly like, under Voldemort's reign and what it was like to fight the death eaters. Apparently, he had kept a journal the entire time he was on the run and had copied a few pages for his students. His teachings also explained the questions Fred and Charlie often received from curious students.

But nothing was normal. It would never be normal. Draco knew the other members still suffered from nightly terrors.

He still had nightmares too. Nightmares of torture chambers and battles and deaths- His father's, his mother's, Ron's, Remus', Tonks', Kingsley's, Luna's, Neville's... Blaise's. The list went on and on. He saw the faces of the men and women he had killed sometimes, all of them lining up, their hands outreached as if waiting to drag him into death with them. And he knew Ginny had them too, though in some ways hers were worse.

Draco squeezed Ginny's hand, willing the bad thoughts to vanish. Their glimmering tattoos pressed together. To them, they were symbols of the darkest times and of surviving. But to their children, they were pretty, meaningless pictures, covered in words of a forgotten language, symbols of crimes and injustices that had never existed.

Perhaps one day they would teach Achilles and Blaise their story, but understanding would never truly come. The children would never understand the pain that came with the scars that twisted parts of their parents bodies; or the fear that had ingrained images into the minds of their parents so that they relived the horrors night after night. They would never understand what it was like to be attacked or to kill someone. They would never comprehend the despair that came with losing someone the way their parents had. And they would never fully realize the feats their parents had accomplished. And that was perfectly okay with Ginny and Draco. Perhaps one day they would tell the tale, softly whispered, the violence of it hidden, as Draco's mother had once read beautiful stories to him and protected him from the blows of his father. Perhaps one day they would know, but not today. Ginny and Draco had the rest of their lives to explain the truth- to explain the scars and the nightmares and the pleasure they found in the little things. They had the rest of their lives. Because they would never forget.

And perhaps that was what made moving on so hard for them. For a while, they had had a hard time adjusting- sleeping with knives under their pillows, jumping at the sound of the wind. They had become used to it- that world of scars and fear and killing. And it had frightened them to let go of it, to finally relax and have normal lives, to not outrun death every day. It was like waking suddenly one day in a different world. It had happened so suddenly, and yet, it had taken them years to get there. One moment, they had been hiding in the woods, the next the sun was rising on a new day and they no longer had to live in fear. Ginny remembered standing outside Malfoy Manor, watching the Order spill out of the dungeons, dragging the wounded and dead off. She remembered staring off into the sunrise and wondering how it had all happened. Part of her hadn't believed that it _would _ happen. But it had; they had defeated the Dark Lord and the reign of terror had ended.

They hadn't known where to begin from then, where to go or what to do. During the war, they had always had a plan, a goal and a set of rules to follow. But afterwards, they had nothing, no place to go, no jobs, no diplomas, barely any family, not even a last name. The war and the things they had seen had prevented them from being able to create new relations, they were mistrusting and they were alone because of it. A large portion of their friends and family had died during the war, especially during the battle they had helped design. It was so difficult to make new friends after that. Every time Ginny had met someone new, someone she thought she might grow to like and possibly even trust, she had seen the faces of her dead friends –Ron, Remus, Tonks, Luna, Neville, her mother and father – and had promptly shut down. It was her fault, hers and Draco's that those people were dead. How could she be so cold, so callous, as to replace them? They had fought against these feelings of guilt, of isolation, of helplessness, but there was no way to stop them. They were alone, alone in the responsibility.

One day, though, Draco had looked at his pregnant wife. He could see the grief in her eyes, the knowledge that she was responsible for the death of her friends, the self-condemnation, and he knew he couldn't let it continue. He didn't know if she knew he felt the same way, but he had finally seen her emotions and he knew the truth– they couldn't continue like this.

They had survived one of the deadliest wars in history, but the aftermath was killing them. They had to move on. And eventually, they did. They picked themselves up and began rebuilding their lives. They had bought a house in the countryside, as secluded as Ginny's parents' house had been. They had befriended their neighbors and written to Ginny's brothers. They had visited the Ministry and found jobs, having been welcomed with open arms and praise of their feats. And it had frightened them immensely. Because a Phoenix does not fear the ashes, but rather its own rise from them.

**The End.**

_" I'll tell you a secret. Something they don't teach you in your temple. The Gods envy us. They envy us because we're mortal, because any moment might be our last. Everything is more beautiful because we're doomed. You will never be lovelier than you are now. We will never be here again." -Achilles, Troy_


End file.
